MAN AND THE GOSPEL 



AND 



OUR FATHER'S BUSINESS. 




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Man and the Gospel 



AND 



OUR FATHER'S BUSINESS, 



THOMAS GUTHRIE, D.D., 

AUTHOR OP "THE GOSPEL IN BZEKIEL," ETC 



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mew U>ork 

E. B. TREAT & COMPANY 

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CONTENTS. 



MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

IN TRTAT, & 

REFUGE IN TRIAL. . . • . 26 

IN TEMPTATION. 41 

TRUE RELIGION • 61 

DOING GOOD, AND BEING GOOD. 81 

PURITY 100 

RICHES 118 

THE LAW OF OOD 137 

FAITH AND WORKS . 155 

THE POOR . 172 

CHARITY 158 

OUR FATHER'S BUSINESS. 

OUR MODEL. 206 

our object 220 

our chief end — the glory of ood 234 

our chief end — the good of man 250 

chrd3tian decision 260 

the christian's work 286 

perseverance in well-doing 307 

man's inability 324 

god's ability 342 

the believer's reward - ... * 368 

good works 379 



VI CONTENTS. 

FHE ANGELS' SONG. 
pabt i., 399 

I. THAT REDEMPTION YIELDS THE HIGHEST GLOBT TO GOD. 404 

PABT n., 410 

IL REDEMPTION GLORIFIES GOD IN THE SIGHT OP HOLY 

ANGELS 413 

HL REDEMPTION GLORIFIES GOD THROUGHOUT at.t, THE UNI- 
VERSE 416 

IV. THE REDEEMER AND REDEMPTION ARE WORTHY OF OUR 

HIGHEST PRAD3E 419 

PABT DX, 423 

V. THEY WERE MEN OP A PEACEFUL CALLING 427 

VL THEY WERE MEN OF HUMBLE RANK 431 

VH. THEY WERE MEN ENGAGED IN COMMON DUTIES 434 

pabt rv., 437 

Vm. JESUS RESTORES PEACE BETWEEN GOD AND MAN 443 

PABT V., 451 

EL JESUS BRINGS PEACE TO THE SOUL 456 

X. JESUS SHALL BRING PEACE TO THE WORLD 461 

PABT VL, 465 

XL THE PERSONS TO WHOM GOOD WILL IS EXPRESSED 469 

XXL THE PEBSON WHO EXPRESSES " GOOD WILL " 474 



MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 



♦**{• 



fit CrxaL 

•• My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into divers tempta- 
tions."— St. Jambs i. 2. 

There is an old story of two knights who fell 
into a quarrel, almost into a combat, about a 
shield — the one asserting, and prepared with his 
sword to maintain, that the shield was made of 
gold ; the other as positively asserting that it was 
not gold but silver. Both were right ; and there 
was no more occasion for quarrel between them 
than there has often been between good men in 
religious controversy. Looking at a doctrine from 
different points of view, not having the same 
stand-point, as it is called, they quarrelled ; and 
the quarrel was a mistake. These two knights 
saw one and the same shield ; but looking on it 
from opposite sides, each saw a different face ; 
this was of silver, that of gold. 

Like that shield, the word temptation, as used 
in Holy Scripture, has to be regarded under two 
aspects. It has two meanings ; and unless care 
be taken to distinguish the one from the othe*- 



IO MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

we may fall into a very serious mistake. Some- 
times temptation is employed as another word for 
afflictions, trials ; at other times in a sense so dif- 
ferent, that, instead of counting it all joy, we should 
dread nothing more than to fall into divers tempta- 
tions. Whatever is calculated to inflame our cor- 
ruptions, and has a tendency, from its own nature 
and ours, to seduce us into sin, is temptation ; and 
it is in this sense the word is used when it is 
said, " Let no man say when he is tempted, I am 
tempted of God : for God cannot be tempted with 
evil, neither tempteth he any man. But every 
man is tempted when he is drawn away of his lust, 
and is enticed. Then when lust hath conceived, 
it bringeth forth sin ; and sin when it is finished 
bringeth forth death." 

In this, the most common sense of the word, to 
fall into temptation, is often, notwithstanding our 
best and strongest resolutions, to fall into sin. 
Such is the weakness of our nature ! and how can 
that, which leads in so many cases to sin, ever be 
an occasion of joy ? Who would keep his body 
under, as the apostle says, who would be tem- 
perate in all things, who would hold the old man 
nailed to the cross, who would mortify the flesh 
with its affections and lusts, who would keep his 
marriage garment unspotted of the world, will not 
throw himself into the arms of temptation, but 
rather shrink from it with fear and dread. He 
will go out of his way to avoid temptation, as he 
would the road frequented by a ravening lion, a 
house or street where coffins were rife, and the 
plague was raging. " He fell among thieves," is 
true of him who falls into divers temptations ; and 



IN TRIAL. If 

he would often die under his wounds, but for Him 
who drew His own portrait in the picture of the 
good Samaritan. Beset by robbers and assassins, 
he may conquer through divine strength, but he 
has a hard fight for it, nor comes out of the battle 
without some wounds to heal. 

" Stand in awe, and sin not;" "Watch and 
pray, that ye enter not into temptation," are warn- 
ings which no good man should disregard. Is this 
to be a coward ? Anything else were the height 
of rashness. Who sleeps by a magazine of gun- 
powder needs to take care even of sparks ; who 
walks on slippery ice, let him not go star-gazing, 
but look to his feet, and take care of falling. What- 
ever provokes to sin, though beautiful as Bathsheba, 
— what is in its nature calculated, and by the cun- 
ning fiend intended to draw us into transgression, — 
is a danger against which we cannot be too much 
upon our guard. Though in themselves innocent, 
pleasures are sought at too great hazard that grow 
on a dizzy crag, or among the grass where adders 
creep, or in the lofty crevice of some tottering 
wall, or on the brink of a swollen flood ; and all the 
more if, such as our poet describes : 

"Pleasures are like poppies spread, 
We nip the flower, the bloom is fled ; 
Or, like the snow-flake on the river, 
A moment white, then gone forever." 

The language of joy is praise : but when a man 
is passing through temptation, the time is not for 
praise but prayer ; it is for sighs, much more than 
songs ; for strong crying, and tears, and holy fears ; 
for deep horror, and the drawn sword that gleamed 
in the hand of Christian, as, amidst spectral forms, 



12 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

hideous sights and sounds, he trode the Valley of 
the Shadow of Death. Count it all joy ? Who 
consults his soul's peace, purity, and safety, in- 
stead of counting it all joy to fall into divers temp- 
tations, will do his utmost to avoid them ; his con- 
stant, daily, earnest prayer, " Lead me not into 
temptation ;" and when he falls into it, his cry — 
St, Peter's on the sea, — " Save me, I perish !" — that 
of one with the coils of a monstrous snake con- 
tracting round his form, " Make haste unto me, O 
God, thou art my help and my deliverer ; O Lord, 
make no tarrying." 

It is in an old, but now rather uncommon, use 
of the word that we are to understand tempta- 
tion, as used by St. James when he says, " Count 
it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations." 
It stands there for what in common language we 
call trials ; — those troubles from which the best 
no more than the worst are exempt ; the bitter 
ingredients that mingle with every man's cup ; 
the cup that is found in every man's sack ; the 
sufferings that, in some form or other, are ever oc- 
curring between the cradle and the grave, and that 
chequer a life which at birth begins with a cry, 
and at death ends with a groan. And what a 
grand faith is that which glories in these tribula- 
tions ! The world, a cold philosophy tell us to 
bear what we cannot throw off, stoutly to face 
what we cannot shun, and, like one who holds his 
breath and sets his teeth to some painful oper- 
ation, to endure what we cannot cure. How 
divine the faith which, thrusting these cold com- 
forters aside, comes to the mourner weeping by 
the coffin, visits the captive pining in his dun- 



IN TRIAL. 13 

geon, stands by the martyr bound to his stake to 
say, " Glory in tribulations" — " Blessed is the man 
that endureth temptation, for when he is tried he 
shall receive the crown of life which the Lord hath 
promised to them that love him !" Since trials 
more or less painful are the lot of all, God's people 
should learn how to bear the^m. 

In Old Testament times Christianity was in the 
opening bud ; now it is in the full-blown flower. 
Sustained then by types and symbols, it was the 
eaglet when the mother stirs her nest and bears it 
on her wings ; now a full-feathered eagle with her 
foot on the rock, and her far-piercing eye on the 
sun, she springs upwards to cleave the parting 
clouds and soar high above them. Still, though 
without our advantages, these Old Testament saints 
present remarkable instances, among other graces, 
of resignation. ; and as we see the trees in early 
spring living, standing, though autumn blasts and 
winter frosts have stripped off all their leaves, 
we see in these patriarchs how stoutly faith in 
God can stand when trials have robbed life of 
every green joy, and the days come, of which he 
says, "I have no pleasure in them/' the poor suf- 
ferer would be happy with his head beneath the 
sod, to sleep where the wicked cease from troubling, 
and the weary are at rest. What an illustrious 
example of this was Job, when deep answered 
unto deep at the noise of God's waterspouts ! Bil- 
low after billow went over him ; he goes down, 
never as it seemed to rise again ; but faith cannot 
drown, and how wonderful to see his head emerge, 
and, as he looks around on the desolation, fortune 
and family ingulfed, to hear him say, " The Lord 



14 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

giveth, and the Lord taketh away, blessed be 
the name of the Lord ;" or, " Though he slay me, 
yet will I trust in him ;" He has slain mine, my 
sons, my daughters, my joys and hopes, all are 
dead and gone ; now let Him slay not mine but 
me also, yet will I trust in Him. What faith ! 
What sublime resignation ! And would we, now 
suffering under trials, bear them, or, having to 
suffer, would we meet them with like submission, 
we must learn to yield to, not to resist God's 
will. 

Strive to enter in at the strait gate, — at all cost 
and hazard ; let sinners strive after conversion — to 
be in Christ ; but strive not, impatient of trials, to 
get out of them. If, like many, you are " bound 
in affliction," it will do you no good to fret against 
it ; that will but make the iron cut deeper into the 
flesh. The yoke sits easiest on the neck of the 
patient ox ; and he feels his chain the lightest who 
does not drag but carry it. Bow before the trial, 
as I have read travellers do when overtaken in 
the desert by the dreadful simoom. The Simoom ! 
When that cry rises, striking terror into the boldest 
hearts, and the purple haze sweeps on, which to 
breathe is death, they make no attempt to fly — 
the swiftest Arab scours not the desert like the 
wing of this scourge — but, instantly, they throw 
themselves on the ground ; every head is muffled ; 
and there, low in the dust, trembling, dumb, in 
awful silence they lie, and let the poisonous wind 
blow over them. " Hide thee in the dust," hide 
thee in the dust, is the voice of God in our cala- 
mities ; and the lower we lie there before Him, 
passive under His mighty hand, yielding to His 



IN TRIAL. I J 

sovereign will, we shall suffer tke less when days 
of darkness come. 

To take an illustration from more familiar scenes, 
we should meet life's trials as we do the billows, to 
which Scripture so often compares them. When 
the foaming breaker comes rolling in, meet it erect, 
with bold front, defiant of its strength, and, sweep* 
ing you off your feet, it hurls you among the 
seething water. We have tried it ; and, all but 
suffocated, have risen, lacerated and bleeding, from 
the flinty beach. But meet the billow bent, stoop 
to its foaming crest, bow before its power, and, 
roaring, it passes harmlessly over your head ; and, 
as the waves neither come so fast, nor stay so long, 
but there is time to breathe between them, by this 
simple art you stand like a rock, and see the 
proudest billows burst foaming on the beach. A 
blessed art this, when deep is answering unto deep, 
and all God's waves and billows go over us ! Who. 
seizing every opportunity to pray, bends to trials, 
breaks them — and is least stunned by the rudeness 
of their shock. And thus it is, perhaps, that 
Christians of a gentle spirit, by nature as well as 
grace more pliant than defiant, that women, by 
their constitution less tough and more ready to 
bend, have more passive courage, often bear 
troubles better than stout men ; they let the wave 
go over them, not fighting against God, but saying 
with Christ, " Father, not my will, but thine, be 
done ;" or with Eli, " It is the Lord, let him do 
what seemeth him good." 

Again, the sight of God in his trials greatly helps 
a good man to bear them. The nearer we get to 
God in times of trouble, the less their pain and the 



\6 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

greater our profit. The son who, seeking to escape 
correction, stands at arm's length struggling to get 
away, feels the full power of the rod ; but light falls 
the stroke on him who, confessing, " I am afflicted 
far less than my iniquities deserve ; I will be dumb, 
opening not my mouth, because thou didst it," 
flies to his father's bosom, and falls penitent at his 
feet. It happens in the spiritual as in the natural 
w r orld, that the farther from him who strikes the 
heavier, and the nearer to him who strikes, the 
lighter falls the blow. Consider this, besides, that 
God never strikes his people with both hands ; for 
who has ever sought Him in their trouble, drawn 
near to him in deep affliction, but found that if He 
was strong to smite, He was strong also to support ? 
Did you ever see a father beating a son who 
resisted ? He holds the boy with one hand, and 
he smites him with the other. It is not so God 
corrects a penitent, loving child. While one hand 
is employed to strike, what does He with the other ? 
They who draw near to Him crying, " Though he 
slay me, yet will I trust in him," ever find the other 
employed not to hold, but to uphold them, 
Wiping away the tears the rod starts in their eyes, 
pouring balm into the wounds His hand inflicts, 
sustaining while He smites, kissing while He 
corrects, He teaches His people that trials are the 
badge of sonship. " Whom he loveth he chasteneth, 
and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth." 

But submission is not the highest lesson taught 
in the school of trial. That school has higher 
instruction and nobler prizes. It is a great thing to 
learn submission ; but it is a grand thing to rejoice 
in, and rejoice over our afflictions, as St Paul did ; 



IN TRIAL. 17 

and St James says we are to " count it all joy when 
we fall into divers trials." Why not ? why should 
that language surprise us ? why should we start at 
it ? why hear it with an incredulous ear, if seasons 
of trial are the occasions of drawing out the 
tenderest love of God ? Why not, if they corres- 
pond to the sick-bed and sick-chamber, where we 
get into the innermost circle of domestic affections ? 
By the anxiety all show for our recovery ; by the 
midnight watching at our bed ; by no trouble 
grudged, but sleep, and rest, and pleasure, and 
everything sacrificed for us ; by the noiseless step 
and gentle whispers ; by the cloud that darkens 
every brow when physicians look grave, and our 
case looks worse ; by the joy that sits on every 
face when we are better ; by a thousand little kind 
attentions that, never thought of in the day of 
health, come out shining like stars at night, we now 
know how precious we are to others, how much we 
are valued, how tenderly loved. It is almost worth 
being ill to know this, and receive the kindnesses 
that our illness calls out. Is that a set-off to thy 
pains of sickness ? How many of the Lord's people 
have had this to set against their sorest trials, that 
they never felt nearer to God, and God never drew 
nearer, nor dealt so kindly with them, as when they 
were cast into darkness and the deeps — their afflic- 
tion abounded, but then their consolations much 
more abounded. It was on the mount where it 
lightened and thundered that God showed them 
His glory. It was in the wilderness that water 
gushed from the smitten rock and they ate of 
angels' food ; that the pillared cloud was seen by 
day, the pillared fire by night. It was when their 

2 



1 8 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

bark was tempest-tossed, and the sky was dark, 
and the sea was rough, that Christ came walking 
on the billows to still the tempest, to subdue their 
fears. Can they ever forget how then and there 
He fulfilled the gracious promises — " When thou 
passest through the waters, I will be with thee, 
and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee ; 
thou shalt walk through the fire, and not be burned ; 
neither shall the flame kindle upon thee. Fear not, 
for I am with thee. For I am the Lord thy God, 
the Holy One of Israel, thy Saviour." 

But, as I have said, the child of God has joy not 
only in trials, but through them ; and for this, 
among other reasons, because they prove the genu- 
ineness of his faith — they are the trying of your 
faith, as an apostle calls them. 

There was a British regiment once ordered to 
charge a body of French cuirassiers. The trumpets 
sounded, and away they went boldly at them ; but 
not to victory. They broke like a wave that 
launches itself against a rock. They were sacrificed 
to traders' fraud. Forged not of truest steel, but 
worthless metal, their swords bent double at the 
first stroke. What could human strength, or the 
most gallant bravery, do against such odds ? They 
were slaughtered, like sheep on the field. And 
ever since I read that tragedy, I have thought I 
would not go to battle unless my sword were proved. 
I would not go to sea with anchors that had never 
been tried. But of all things for a man's comfort 
and peace, what needs so much to be proved as his 
faith — its truth and genuineness ? Any way, it is a 
serious thing to face death, and meet the King of 
Terrors on his own ground ; but were our faith 



IN TRIAL. 19 

never tried till we stood face to face in the valley 
with our last enemy, face to face with our God at 
the bar of judgment, it were still more serious. 
With our powers of self-deception — with Satan sit- 
ting- at the sinner's ear, saying, Peace, peace, when 
there is none to be found — with so many who have 
the form of godliness, but are strangers to its power, 
the stoutest heart might tremble for the issues. 
Before I go down to battle, I want to know if my 
sword is forged of trusty steel ; before I go to sea, 
I want to know if my anchor is hammered out of 
the toughest iron ; before I set out on my journey, 
I want to know if this is sterling money, — is it 
genuine ? has it the ring of true metal ? will it stand 
the test ? So long as it is fair weather, I want to 
know if my hopes rest on sand or on solid stone ; 
when rains descend, and waters rise, and winds 
blow, and beat on my house, it may be too late to 
know the truth. I want to know it now ; — now, 
when, if I should have been building on the sand, 
there is time to seek in Christ the Rock of Ages, a 
foundation that cannot be moved. It is of the 
utmost importance to have our faith tested ; and 
God's people, therefore, have cause to bless Him, 
and do bless Him, for the trials that have put it to 
the test, and proved it true. 

If like the treading of camomile, or the crushing 
of a sweet-scented plant, that bathes in odors the 
hand that bruises it, or the burning of incense that 
draws out its latent perfumes, your trials have called 
forth heavenliness of mind, child-like submission to 
God's sovereign will, strong trust in His providence, 
a ready willingness to bear your cross for the honor 
of Him that bore His cross for you, count it all joy 



20 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

when ye fall into divers trials. They have equipped 
you for future battles, and furnished you with recol- 
lections and experiences to disarm the greatest 
evils. His presence with you in the past is a pledge 
of His presence in the future ; that He will be with 
you through whatever troubles, great or small, you 
have to go — with you always — with you even unto 
the end. Not one that has never been tried when 
days of darkness come, you can " remember the 
years of the right hand of the Most High." Why 
should you be dismayed ? You stand on the 
vantage-ground of David, when, the host reeling 
back with terror, and Saul attempting to dissuade 
him from meeting the Philistine, he stood calm, col- 
lected, and, eyeing the giant, said, " He thai 
delivered me from the paw of the lion and the paw 
of the bear, shall he not also deliver me from the 
hand of this Philistine ?" Let the past throw its 
shadow, or its light rather, on the future. " That 
which is to be hath already been ;" for " our God is 
the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness 
nor shadow of turning. ,, Courage, then ! go forward ! 
and as in days gone by, the favor of God shall be 
your shield, and the joy of the Lord your strength. 
Some bear their sufferings as, if we are to be- 
lieve the stories we have read, the Indian bears his 
tortures. Tied to the stake, abandoned of hope, 
looking on his last sun, a crowd of enemies dance 
round him with frantic gestures and brandished 
knives ; and as they go round and round in the 
horrid dance, though avoiding to wound, they 
strike at his throat and face ; but the red man 
stands motionless, erect ; nor shrinks, nor winks, 
nor gives sign of terror. Ingeniously cruel, they 



IN TRIAL. 21 

search out the most delicate seats of feeling, and 
thrust the burning match up to the quick. Inch 
by inch they cut his living form to pieces ; but, 
with blood, they wring out no groan from that 
defiant man. Naming their braves he has slain 
and scalped in battle, this hero of the forest sings 
his bold death- song, scorning their powers of tor- 
ture. How different from the central object in 
this savage scene the form of Christian patience, 
her head meekly bowing to the hand of God ; 
heaven in her eye ; resignation in her face ; and 
on her pale lips the seal of silence ! It is pride, not 
patience, that sustains yonder haughty savage — 
stubborn endurance, the power of an iron will. 
And in some who, uncomplaining, suffer pain, or 
loss, or wrong, or calumny, their silence, though 
they get credit for patience, may be but pride. It 
is a well-known fact, that a man who stands erect 
can carry a heavier burden on his head than he 
ever can on his back ; and, raising itself to the 
occasion, pride has stood erect under crushing 
burdens, confronted misfortune, and, while smart- 
ing under insult and injuries, has scorned to gratify 
its enemies by betraying a sign of pain. This is 
but the counterfeit of patience. 

Nor are we to take for this Christian grace the 
callousness or hardening effect which sometimes 
follows trials of great severity. They say that the 
wretch condemned to the Russian knout feels only 
the few first blows. After these have cut to the 
bone, and brought away long strips of flesh from 
his quivering back, the power to feel is gone. 
The nerves are crushed, their life destroyed ; his 
head droops, and the lash falls on the dying man 



22 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

as if he were already dead. And some such cal- 
lousness has come over hearts that have suffered 
many and severe afflictions ; future trials giving 
them no more pain than the hot iron gives the 
blacksmith's horny hand. I once knew one, a 
Christian widow, who had early lost the husband 
of her youth. Other losses succeeded. The 
pledges of their love, a son and daughter, were 
snatched from her arms ; her house was left unto 
her desolate. But these blows did not, as many 
feared, break that bruised reed. A pious woman, 
she was patient, resigned to the will of the widow's 
Husband ; still it was not patience that replied to 
my sympathy, when, alluding to her first great 
trial, she said, u My first grief made so large a hole 
in my heart, that now it can hold no common 
sorrow." 

Patience is not pride ; and is not insensibility. 
Acutely sensitive, she may feel all the pain of the 
rod, while kissing the hand that uses it. She 
bears, not because she can do no otherwise, but 
would no otherwise ; not because she cannot help 
it, but would not alter it. Leaving God to choose 
for her as well as chastise, to select her cross as 
well as her crown, she meekly says, " It is the 
Lord, let him do what seemeth him good," — not 
me, but Him, good. How noble is this grace ! It 
makes the greatest of all sacrifices, yielding up our 
fondest wishes, our dearest hopes, our strongest 
will to the sovereignty of God. Offering the great- 
est of all sacrifices, it achieves the greatest of all 
victories; here man makes a conquest of himself: 
and, in the judgment of Solomon, " he that ruleth 
his own spirit is greater than he that taketh a city." 



IN TRIAL. 2% 

Let a good man, then, count it all joy when he 
falls into divers trials, for — God's Spirit brooding 
in the stormy waters — patience is born of trials. 
If not their child, she is their nursling ; it is their 
storms that rock her cradle. I say not that we 
are to pray for trials, though, all unexpected, they 
may come in answer to our prayers. We seek that 
patience may have her perfect work, and God 
sends trials in answer. It is rough work that 
polishes. Look at the pebbles on the shore ! Far 
inland, where some arm of the sea thrusts itself 
deep into the bosom of the land, and expanding 
into a salt loch, lies girdled by the mountains, 
sheltered from the storms that agitate the deep, 
the pebbles on the beach are rough, not beautiful ; 
angular, not rounded. It is where long white 
lines of breakers roar, and the rattling shingle is 
rolled about on the strand, that its pebbles are 
rounded and polished. As in nature, as in the 
arts, so in grace ; it is rough treatment that gives 
souls as well as stones their lustre ; the more the 
diamond is cut the brighter it sparkles ; and in 
what seems hard dealing, their God has no end in 
view but to perfect His people's graces. Our 
Father, and kindest of fathers, He afflicts not will- 
ingly ; He sends tribulations, but hear St. Paul 
tell their purpose, — " Tribulation worketh patience, 
patience experience, experience hope." Therefore, 
as he said, we glory in tribulation, therefore we 
should count it all joy when we fall into divers 
trials. Let patience have her perfect work ; wait 
patiently for God to explain His own providences ; 
wait patiently for the hour of deliverance, — Woman, 
He says, my time is not yet come ; wait patiently 



24 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

for the hour of death, for the heavenly rest, for the 
blood-bought crown. A little more patience, and 
you shall need patience no more. One of the mul- 
titude whom no man can number, who stand before 
the throne, and before the Lamb, clothed with 
white robes, and palms in their hands, — the days 
of your mourning are ended. 



REFUGE IN TRIAL. *% 



HUfotg* in CriaL 

"If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to ail 
men liberally, and upbraideth not ; and it shall be given him. But let 
him ask in faith, nothing wavering. For he that wavercth is like a 
wave of the sea driven with the wind and tossed." — St. James i. 5, 6. 

It was a common thing for men in old times to 
provide themselves with a refuge against the 
hour when the worst came to the worst. You may 
see it in the crumbling ruins of our old castles, 
where, once carefully concealed behind the arras, 
it now stands exposed in the narrow stair within the 
thick and massive walls. By this, when the gates 
were forced, and the defenders, a bleeding band, 
were driven back from room to room, they, suddenly 
pushing aside a panel, descended into the dungeons ; 
and issuing out by some secret port, escaped with 
their lives. And to this day the shepherds show 
the hiding-places among their green hills, the 
" holes and caves of the earth " to which our fore- 
fathers betook themselves when persecution waxed 
hot, and bloodhounds bayed at their heels. A 
midnight march brought the ruthless soldiery in 
the gray of the morning to the cottage of a lone 
upland, where some man of God was in hiding. 
They surrounded the house — but missed their prey. 
Warned by trusty watchers, who often concealed 
bold daring and deep cunning under the garb of 



26 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

homely simplicity, he was off. Near by rose a 
dizzy crag, roared a foaming waterfall ; and ere his 
enemies arrived, the fugitive had leaped the chasm, 
and scaled the rock, and swinging himself up by 
the arms of a friendly mountain-ash, whose scarlet 
foilage screened the mouth of a dark cavern, he 
was safe within, singing to the music of the cataract 
these appropriate words : " In the time of trouble 
he shall hide me in his pavilion, in the secret of his 
tabernacle shall he hide me, he shall set me up 
upon a rock ; and now shall mine head be lifted 
up above mine enemies round about me." 

The " Chronicles of Froissart " relate the strange 
issue of a siege which took place in the days of 
chivalry — and somewhere, I think, in France. 
Though gallantly defended, the out-works of the 
citadel had been carried ; the breach was practi- 
cable ; to-morrow was fixed for the assault. That 
none, alarmed at the desperate state of their for- 
tunes, might escape under the cloud of night, the 
besiegers guarded every sally-port, and indeed the 
whole sweep of wall. They had the garrison in a 
net ; and only waited for the morrow to secure, or 
to slaughter them. The night wore heavily on ; 
no sortie was attempted ; no sound came from the 
beleaguered citadel ; its brave, but ill-starred de- 
fenders seemed to wait their doom in silence. The 
morning came ; with its dawn the stormers rushed 
at the breach ; sword in hand they poured in to 
find — the nest empty, cold. The bird was flown ; 
the prey escaped. But how ? That was a mystery ; 
it seemed a miracle, till an opening was discovered 
that led by a flight of steps down into the bowels 
of the rock. They descended, and explored their 



REFUGE IN TRIAL. 1J 

way with cautious steps and lighted torches, until 
this subterranean passage led them out a long way 
off from the citadel, among quiet, green fields, and 
the light of day. It was plain that by this pas- 
sage, the doors of which stood open, their prey 
had escaped under cover of the night. A clever 
device — a wise precaution. It was the refuge of 
the besieged, provided against such a crisis. And 
when affairs seem desperate, and the worst has 
come to the worst, how should it encourage God's 
people to remember that He has promised them as 
safe a retreat ! What says an apostle ? " God is 
faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted 
above that ye are able to bear ; but will with the 
temptation also make a way of escape." Our ex- 
tremity is His opportunity. 

These words of Scripture, and a whole cloud of 
corresponding passages — "a cloud of witnesses/' 
indicate that God's people always have a refuge in 
their days of trial. According to David, tl God is 
known in her palaces for a refuge ;" and in what 
glowing language is that truth sung out by Moses 
in his parting words to the tribes of Israel : " There 
is none like unto the God of Jeshurun, who rideth 
upon the heaven in thy help. The eternal God is 
thy refuge, and underneath are the everlasting 
arms. Happy art thou, O Israel ! who is like 
unto thee, O people saved by the Lord, the shield 
of thy help, and who is the sword of thy excel- 
lency !" 

Now let us turn our attention to one of the 
many refuges and sources of support which a pious 
man has amid the trials of life. " Is any among 
you afflicted ? let him pray." So says the apostle 



28 MAN AND VHE GOSPEL. 

St. James ; and referring to the trials of the first 
Christians, he says : " If any of you lack wisdom, 
let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, 
and upbraideth not ; and it shall be given him. 
But let him ask in faith, nothing wavering. For 
he that wavereth is like a wave of the sea driven 
with the wind and tossed." I would ask attention 
to the following points : 

What we are to ask. 

Wisdom ! As used in Scripture, that word has 
a wide meaning ; and here, as elsewhere, it may 
stand for all the graces and virtues that constitute 
true religion. And what of these we lack, what- 
ever indeed we lack — not this or that man lacks, 
but any man, every man lacks, God promises a 
liberal supply of it. There is no restriction, no ex- 
clusion here. He would have all men to pray. It 
is their own blame if people are not saved. As a 
mother would do to her fallen and guilty child, 
God opens his arms wide to the world ; and would 
press it to His bosom. With the offer of Christ to 
all, and virtue in His blood to cleanse all, who is 
lost is his own murderer. Who goes to hell is not 
excluded, but excludes himself from heaven. As 
the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, 
whom He sent to seek and save the lost, God, if 
they will but ask it, giveth liberally to all men. 

But though I do not understand the word zvis- 
dorn, as employed by St. James in the passage 
quoted, in a strictly literal sense, there is much 
need of wisdom, of a sound, right, practical judg- 
ment, in times of trial. That will save us much 
suffering, if not much sin. 

It is not wise to fret under our trials ; the high- 



REFUGE IN TRIAL. 2£ 

mettled horse that is restive in the yoke but galls 
his shoulder — the poor bird that dashes herself 
against the bars of the cage but ruffles her 
feathers and aggravates the sufferings of capti- 
vity. It is not wise, overlooking the sovereign 
will of God, and that presiding Providence which 
numbers the hairs of our head as well as the stars 
of heaven, and without which neither a sparrow 
nor an angel can fall, to trace our calamities 
only to ourselves — that breeds but unavailing re- 
grets ; or to others — that only kindles bad and 
angry passions. It is not wise to look on our 
trials as heavier than those of others, and as war- 
ranting us to cry, in the language of Jerusalem, 
" Behold, and see if there be any sorrow like 
unto my sorrow, which is done unto me, where- 
with the Lord hath afflicted me !" — that can only 
foster a rebellious spirit. It is not wise to forget 
that our blessings are loans from God ; and that 
when we lose them, whether husband, wife, or 
child, health or wealth, fame or fortune, their 
owner but resumes His own, otherwise we shall 
be ready to regard God as a robber, rather than 
to render Him the gratitude due to a most bounti- 
ful benefactor. It is not wise to cling too closely 
to the living, — else we shall some day be found 
embracing the dead. We are to inquire whether 
God has any controversy with us, whether He 
is not rebuking idolatry by destroying our idols, 
still it is not wise to regard our trials as being 
certainly expressions of His wrath : it were a 
great mistake to fancy that the goldsmith is dis- 
satisfied with the gold he burns or the lapidary 
with the diamond he grinds, or the gardener with 



30 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

the tree he prunes. On the contrary, the metal 
is cast into the furnace, and the gem is ground 
on the wheel, and the tree bleeds beneath the 
knife, not because they are little, but because 
they are much esteemed. It is not wise to meet 
trials in our own strength ; on the contrary, when 
they advance with threatening front let us run to 
God, and lay hold on Him ; as, at the cry " Hold 
on," sailors seize rope, mast, shrouds, or bulwark, 
when the curling wave rises at their bows, and, 
bursting, sweeps the deck ; and but for their hold 
would sweep them overboard, into a watery grave. 
I need not say that it is not wise — it is madness, 
it is misery in this world, and damnation in the 
next, to fly from grief to the intoxicating bowl. 
I don't say that it is unnatural. Tell the drown- 
ing man it is but a floating straw, a poor rotten 
twig he seizes, yet he clutches at it, grasps it ; 
and when all God's billows are going over men's 
heads, those who have not comfort in God will 
seek it elsewhere, anywhere. Men have fled to the 
wine-cup to drown reflection ; and I have heard 
a poor, wretched mother, the slave of drinking, 
trace her habits to domestic trials, to the desola- 
tion death had made in her home and heart. 
Miserable refuge ! Job's friends, indeed, are these 
stimulants — beer, wine, spirits : " Miserable com- 
forters are ye all !" Yet, as the wise man says, 
" They drink to forget their poverty, and remem- 
ber their misery no more." By all means fly from 
sorrow to the bosom of God : but to fly from sor- 
row into the arms of sin is an awful illustration of 
the common adage, " An unsanctified affliction is 
the worst of all afflictions " — and also of the pro- 



REFUGE IN TRIAL. 3T 

phet's question : "Why should ye be stricken any 
more ? ye will revolt more and more." 

There is great need of wisdom under trials ; to 
be enlightened as well as supported by the grace 
of God, and in the Holy Ghost to have a Coun- 
sellor as well as Comforter. With all thy getting 
get wisdom— wisdom to trace your trials to the 
Hand above ; to bear them so that you may 
glorify God in the fires ; to improve them, so that 
you may get the good intended, and be more 
than indemnified for their heaviest sufferings. The 
honey of the bee is an excellent antidote to its 
sting ; and what comfort under trials like feeling 
that we are the better of them ? Has not many a 
dark cloud, that in the distance lightened and 
thundered, and filled us with alarm, broke in bless- 
ings on our head — leaving us, as, passing away, it 
showed the bright bow of the covenant on its back, 
to say, "It is good for me that I was afflicted: 
before I was afflicted I went astray, but now have 
I kept thy word." " Right are thy judgments, O 
Lord ; in faithfulness thou hast afflicted me !" 
" Our light afflictions, which are but for a moment, 
shall work out for us a far more exceeding, even 
an eternal weight of glory." 

Next, Of whom we are to ask wisdom. 

Of God who giveth liberally and upbraideth 
not ! If we want money, we go to the bank ; 
water, we go to the well ; medicine, we go to the 
physician ; and who wants divine blessings, mercy 
to pardon, or grace to help, is to go to God — M He 
giveth liberally." 

Did you ever stand in a bright summer day by 
the black swirling pool at the foot of a waterfall 



32 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

and look up to the top of the cascade, where t 
scattering its liquid beads, like sparkling diamonds, 
it sprang boldly out from the rock into the air ? 
How ceaseless the flow ! and with its snowy foam 
ever flashing in the light of day, and its deep, 
solemn voice, in that lone glen, ever praising God 
through the hours of night — what an image does it 
offer of the stream of mercies that are continually 
falling on us from the bountiful hand of God ! 

The Scriptures employ other, and indeed many 
images of God's affluent bounty. God himself 
says, "I will be as the dew unto Israel" — but 
there are cloudy skies and breezy nights when no 
dew falls, emblem of divine bounty, to hang gems 
on every bush, and sow the fields with " orient 
pearls." Again it is said : " He shall come down 
like rain upon the mown grass, as showers that 
water the earth " — but there are days and weeks 
without a drop of rain. Again it is said, " I will 
pour water upon him that is thirsty, and floods 
upon the dry ground " — but it is only on rare occa- 
sions that the river, swollen by many a tributary, 
comes down red and roaring, and, overflowing all 
its banks, turns every wooded knoll into an island, 
and green valleys into inland seas. But, is there 
ever a month, a week, a day, an hour, a moment, a 
single moment, when from thy blessed and boun- 
tiful hand, O God ! mercies are not falling in 
showers — thick as the rain-drops that shimmer in 
sunlight on the water, or as the snow-flakes that 
fill the wintry air. 

He giveth liberally, and he giveth constantly ; 
and, if He pours such affluence of blessings on all 
men, even on His enemies, even on those that 



REFUGE IN TRIAL. 33 

trample the mercies, as they trample the snows of 
heaven under their foul, guilty feet, what may not 
His own, His chosen people expect ? Will He 
deny His fathership when they, His children, His 
own loving children, repair to Him with wounds 
to stanch, with cheeks to dry, with bruised or 
broken hearts to bind, with cries like these — Father, 
help me, I am weak ! Lift me up, I have fallen ! 
Forgive me, I have sinned ! Save, oh, save me, I 
perish ! How have I seen a poor wandering 
vagrant, when her child, footsore and weary, had 
sunk, crying, on the road, true to a mother's love, 
take up the creature in her arms, and, shifting 
its burden to her own back, trudge on her weary 
way ? And what may not you, groaning under 
your burdens, hope for from Him, who is as much 
greater than we in love, as in the wisdom that 
planned, and the power that built this glorious 
universe ? You know what are your thoughts and 
ways to a darling child that is withering away like 
a delicate flower, over whose couch you hang in 
anxious solicitude, for whom you have prayed in 
agony, and whose young life you would purchase 
at the price of all your fortune ! Hear, then, what 
God says : " My ways and my thoughts to you, are 
as far above your ways and thoughts to it, as the 
heavens are above the earth." I have known a 
mother who trod the great city's streets, with 
weary steps and broken heart, the long night 
through, searching every house and den of infamy 
to find her lost one. She found her. Clasping 
the unholy thing to her virtuous bosom, locking 
her in close embraces, to win the wanderer back, 
how did she promise her every pleasure of home, 

3 



34 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

with these hands to toil and work for her, never tc 
cast up her sins, nor speak an upbraiding word ? 
and these yearnings of a mother's heart, what were 
they, but, if I might say so, a spark struck from 
divinity — a drop out of the ocean of love that fills 
the bosom of an infinite God. 

" He upbraideth not." You are unworthy ; you 
have abused my kindness ; charity is wasted on 
you ; I am tired of helping you ; patience is ex- 
hausted ; you come too often ; you ask too much — 
such language never fell from the lips of God. 
I have often seen a shivering, ragged child, or a 
widow, in brown and rusty weeds, with an ema- 
ciated infant in her bosom, timidly knocking at a 
rich man's door, to have it, as soon as it was 
opened and they were seen, shut rudely in their 
face. And while I thought how ill it would be for 
them were God, in their hour of need — on a bed of 
death, or at a bar of judgment — to deal with them 
as they deal with others, it was blessed to think 
that the door of mercy is shut in no man's face ; 
that God's heart is shut against no man's misery ; 
that God's hand is shut against no man's need ; 
that God's eye is shut to no man's danger ; that 
God's ear is shut to no man's prayer. " He giveth 
liberally, and upbraideth not." Appearing in 
human form, and speaking through the voice of 
His beloved Son, He stands up there at the wide- 
open door of heaven, crying, " Come unto Me, all 
ye that labor, and are heavy laden ;" be your 
burden sins or sorrows, be your load grief or guilt, 
Come unto me, and I will give you rest ; Cast thy 
burden on the Lord and He will sustain it ; Open 
thy mouth wide and He will fill it. 



REFUGE IN TRIAL* 35 

Again, How we are to ask. 

With faith, nothing wavering ! 

The pendulum of a time-piece is in constant 
motion, yet it makes no progress, because it has no 
sooner swung a certain waj^ to one side, than it 
swings as far to the other. In like manner, as you 
may know by watching the floating weed, or the 
foam-bells that whiten it, or the boat that rides on 
its back — the mass of water that forms a wave 
makes no progress. Impelled by the wind, the 
wave advances, but not the water of which it is 
formed. If the water did, it would bear yonder 
drowning wretch to the shore ; nor merely leave 
the wave, passing under, to raise his head to catch 
a sight of the blessed land, and then, rolling away 
to break on the beach, leave him to perish. And 
so, alas ! will it be with many, who are not alto- 
gether insensible to religious impressions, who may 
even be easily affected by such influences as a 
sermon, the solemnities of a death-bed, the heaving 
swell of a revival ; and being so, imagine them- 
selves on the way to heaven, just as many careless 
observers imagine because the wave goes shore- 
ward, the water also does. 

As employed by St. James to describe certain 
characters, the wave is a most felicitous figure. 
Look at a boat floating on the sea, at high or low 
water, when the tide, out or in, and on the turn, 
has ceased to run ; or watch a boat away amid the 
swell of a mountain lake when the wind, retiring 
to its caves among the hills, has roared itself to 
rest ! It is in constant motion between earth and 
heaven — now mounting to the top of the billow, 
and now sinking out of sight in the trough of the 



36 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

sea ; yet with all this violent action, heaving, toss- 
ing, rolling, the skiff does not make an inch of way, 
but continues to ride over the self-same spot. Too 
true a figure of many professing Christians ! Va- 
cillating — not hypocrites, but through the influence 
of opposing motives — double-minded, and therefore 
unstable, heaven now seems to draw them upward, 
and then again earth draws them down — now, fol- 
lowing Christ, they cry, with the young ruler, 
"Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal life ?" 
and then, with their backs turned on Him, they are 
leaving Him ; sorrowful, perhaps, but still leaving 
Him — now they are casting sin away from them f 
and by and by they are locked in her foul em- 
braces — now they are fighting the Philistines, and 
ere long you find them sound asleep in Delilah's 
lap — now full of alarm, in fear of hell, pricked to 
the heart, their conscience awake, bent on being 
saved, they make a rush for heaven, and their foot 
is on the door-step — " they are not far from the 
kingdom of heaven ;" but a cross lies on the 
threshold, and stumbling on that they fall — fall 
back into sin ; and the last state of that man is 
perhaps worse than the first. One day they seem 
to serve Christ, and certainly serve their lusts the 
next. They don't want to lose heaven, yet they 
cannot part with earth. Often starting up in their 
sleep, like one disturbed by horrid dreams, they 
are ever falling back again into slumber ; and thus, 
equally affected by opposite influences, they are 
like a wave of the sea, rising and falling, now mov- 
ing heavenward, now earthward — driven with the 
wind and tossed. Well, of a life spent in such un- 
steady efforts after what is good — in sinning to- 



REFUGE IN TRIAL. 37 

day, and repenting to-morrow — what is to be the 
issue ? It comes to nothing ; like a door moving 
on its hinges, they make no progress ; and the fate 
of their hopes, when death throws them on another 
world, is foreshadowed by the wave, that, launched 
on an iron-bound shore, bursts into froth and foam. 
The end of these things is death. 

Who, dying, would go to glory, who would be 
redeemed from sin and hell, who would secure a 
saving interest in Christ, who would have strength 
to endure trial, and stand its bufFetings, as a rock 
stands the blows of waves, must have his heart 
steadily, resolutely, firmly fixed on divine things. 
" No man having put his hand to the plough, and 
looking back, is fit for the kingdom of heaven." 
Pray for unwavering faith, a strong — as Jabez 
Bunting, when dying, said, an obstinate faith in 
God. Seek such faith as not only lays hold of 
Him, but holds Him and wont let Him go ; that 
has the grasp of a drowning man. Seek a faith 
greater than Joshua's, when, laying its hand on the 
sun, he held it back from going on ; a faith like 
Jacob's, who, strange as it seems, held God from 
going away, as, endowed with superhuman energy, 
he wrestled the night through with an angel, and, 
the stronger of the two, prevailed — replying to the 
prayer, Let me go, for the day breaketh, I will not 
let thee go, unless thou bless me. 

Were this too bold a freedom to take with God ? 
No ! We have " boldness to enter into the holiest 
by the blood of Jesus." It is the boldness of the 
little child that, unabashed by any one's presence, 
c Hmbs his father's knee, and throws his arms 
around his neck — or, bursting into his room, breaks 



38 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

in on his busiest hours, to have a bleeding finger 
bound, or some childish tears kissed away ; that 
says if any threaten or hurt him, I will tell my 
father ; and, however he might tremble to sleep 
alone, fears neither ghosts, nor man, nor darkness, 
nor devils, if he lies couched at his father's side. 
Such confidence, bold as it seems, springs from 
trust in a father's love ; and pleases rather than 
offends us. Well, then, if you that are evil have 
such hearts, and know how to give good gifts to 
your children, how much more will our heavenly 
Father give the Holy Spirit, all, everything they 
need, to them who ask — asking with faith, nothing 
wavering ! 

Hope, as well as prayer, opens a welcome refuge 
to the good man in times of trial. " Blessed is he 
that endureth temptation, for when he is tried he 
shall receive the crown of life which the Lord 
hath promised to them that love him. " Here, how 
true is the common proverb : " All is well that 
ends well." It is not, Blessed is he that hath no 
trials, whose heart they never wrung ; whose tears 
never flowed ; whose brightest prospects were 
never clouded ; whose dearest hopes never lay 
withered and scattered like autumn leaves, on 
life's rough and rugged path ; who never entered 
the fiery furnace, nor trod the swelling flood. He 
is blessed who endureth temptation ; stands the 
test ; bears his burden well ; glorifies God in the 
fires, and comes forth shining like gold from a 
refiner's furnace. Every wave of trouble lifts him 
but higher on the Rock of Ages — wafts him nearer 
to the heavenly shore. 

Let the downcast lift their heads, and look up- 



REFUGE IN TRIAL. 39 

ward and forward ! For the joy set before Him, 
Jesus endured the cross and despised the shame. 
And He says, Learn of me ; overleap the narrow 
bounds of a few short years, and what shall your 
present sorrow be but the morning's recollection 
of a disagreeable dream ! The days of your 
mourning shall be ended — your cross exchanged 
for a shining crown. I have heard one say, as he 
bent over a friend who was groaning under the 
surgeon's knife, It will soon be over ! and so Jesus, 
with tender fellow-feeling for their infirmities, con- 
soles His suffering people. Amid your trials, 
think of that — they will soon be over ; sooner, 
perhaps, than you fancy. Your salvation, not only 
nearer than when you believed, may be nearer 
than you suppose ; even now the cry may be 
sounding in heaven — Room for another saint ! a 
crown for another head ! and the next turn of the 
road may bring you in front of the gates of glory. 

Whatever be your cross, don't keep, with down- 
cast head, looking at it ; but raise your eyes to the 
crown that hangs yonder in heaven — beyond the 
grave. When grim death comes, see it glittering 
bright behind his awful form ; nor fear the King of 
Terrors. Constructed of bands of metal and bits 
of stone, and doomed to perish in the wreck of all 
things, other crowns grace the brows of dying men ; 
they are borne in the procession that carries a king 
to his grave — and, in mockery of the royal pageant, 
the heads that wore them are laid, low as a beg- 
gar's, in the dusty tomb. But this is a crown of 
life. Immortals wear it, and it is itself immortal — 
" a crown of glory that fadeth not away." And how 
will that moment swallow up all memory of the 



40 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

sorrows of earth, when, led by angels, or a father 
or mother, within the brilliant circle where you 
recognise the glorified forms of long-lost friends, 
you stand before the throne ; and, bending low 
your head, receive, amid the plaudits of the sky, 
this crown at the hand of Jesus. 

And what shall heaven see there and then ? 
Life crowning love ! not Merit, that stands proud 
and panting at the goal ; not Success, that has filled 
the world with famous deeds ; not Learning, that 
has explored all the mysteries of knowledge, human 
and divine ; not Prophecy, with her many tongues ; 
not even Faith, grasping the cross ; nor clear-eyed 
Hope, with her hand on the anchor, and her gaze 
on heaven ; but Love, the true queen of graces. 
She who, when Faith seemed to lose hold of Christ, 
and Hope to lose sight of heaven, still clung to 
Jesus ; and, refusing to part with Him, said, Entreat 
me not to leave thee, nor to return from following 
after thee ; where thou goest I will go, and where 
thou lodgest I will lodge. Thanks be to God who 
giveth us the victory, through our Lord Jesus Christ, 
says St Paul ; and I say, thanks be to God, who 
bestows the crown of life on those that love Him ; 
and can say, Though I have not honored thee, nor 
served thee, nor followed thee, nor fought for thee, 
nor wrought for thee, nor suffered nor sacrificed for 
thee, as I should have done, yet, " Lord, thou that 
knowest all things, knowest that I love thee." 



IN TEMPTATION. 4I 



fit &tm$tetxovi. 



" Let no man say when he is tempted, I am tempted of God : for 
God cannot be tempted with evil, neither tempteth he any man: but esery 
man is tempted, when he is drawn away of his own lust, and enticed. 
Then when lust hath conceived, it bring eth forth sin: and sin, when it 
is finished, bringeth forth death." — St. James i. 13-15. 

One of the highest flights of Milton's poetry is 
his story of the encounter between Satan and the 
porters of the gate of hell : 

" Before the gates thero sat 
On either side a formidable shape ; 
The one seem'd woman to the waist, and fair ; 
But ended foul in many a scaly fold, 
Voluminous and vast ; a serpent arm'd 
With mortal sting ; — the other shape, 
If shape it might be call'd, that shape had none, 
Distinguishable in member, joint, or limb ; 
Or substance might be call'd that shadow seem'd, 
For each seem'd either ; black it stood as night, 
Fierce as ten Furies, terrible as hell, 
And shook a dreadful dart ; what seem'd his head, 
The likeness of a kingly crown had on." 

The monster, thus graphically described, ad- 
vances with horrid strides to bar Satan's passage. 
Incensed at its presumption, and fearing no created 
thing, he prepares, with arms, to force his way. 
Like two dark clouds charged with thunders, they 
approach each other — Satan resolved to be out, 
this grizzly terror resolved to keep him in : 



42 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

"And now great deeds 
Had been achieved, whereof all hell had rung, 
Had not the snaky sorceress, that sat 
Fast by hell-gate, and kept the fatal key, 
Bisen, and, with hideous outcry rush'd between, 
'O father, what intends thy hand,' she cried, 
Against thy only son ? What fury, O son, 
Possesses thee to bend that mortal dart 
Against thy father's head?' " 

Having thrown herself between the combatants, 
and stayed their fury, in a tale which the poet's 
fancy has woven out of a passage in the Epistle of 
St. James, this creature, half fair woman, half scaly 
serpent, proceeds to explain herself. Addressing 
her words to Satan, she tells him how her name 
is Sin — and how, at the time of the great revolt 
in heaven, she sprung, a goddess armed, from his 
pain-split head — and how, pregnant by him, when 
cast out of the celestial spheres, and sent to keep 
watch at the gates of hell, amid parturient pangs 
she gave birth to a son, who 

" Forth issued, brandishing his fatal dart, 
Made to destroy. I fled, and cried out, Death ! 
Hell trembled at the hideous name, and sigh'd 
From all her caves, and back resounded, Death !" 

In this grand fashion John Milton illustrates 
these weighty sayings, "Let no man say when he 
is tempted, I am tempted of God : for God can- 
not be tempted with evil, neither tempteth he 
any man : but every man is tempted, when he 
is drawn away of his own lust, and enticed. 
Then when lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth 
sin : and sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth 
death." 



IN TEMPTATION. 43 

Now, leaving the poet to soar away, singing on 
wings sublime, let us descend, and take a practical 
view of the temptations with which every good 
man has to contend. 

Reflect on the importance of this subject. 

An example of " much in little," the Ten Com- 
mandments embrace the whole duty of man. 
An example also of "much in little," the Lord's 
Prayer, in a few heads, sums up all that we should 
pray for. It contains but seven petitions ; and 
how large the subject of temptation bulked in our 
Lord's eye, and how important therefore it should 
seem in ours, is to be gathered from the circum- 
stance, that it forms the subject of one of these 
seven. You may guess the rank and conse- 
quence of a man by the society that he moves 
in, and here the subject of temptation appears 
in the highest company. It is classed with sub- 
jects that engage the intellects of angels, that 
concern God's glory, and that are identified both 
with our present, and with our eternal welfare. 
If it occupied the same proportion of man's life, 
a seventh part of all our thoughts, our cares, 
and our time, would be given to it — to resisting 
temptation ; avoiding it ; fighting it ; guarding 
against the sins it may lead to, as well as mourn- 
ing and seeking the forgiveness of those it has led 
to. 

If the temptations that beset and assail us do 
not occupy such a place in our thoughts and lives 
— for they give some men no trouble — that ad- 
mits of an obvious but melancholy explanation. 
It is not, that the man who is without regrets, 
anxieties, daily and hourly struggles, is a better 



44 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

man than he who has " fightings without and 
fears within." It is not that he is holy; never 
tempted ; or that he never yields to temptation. 
On the contrary, it is because he, unresisting, 
yields to it. What more pleasant and easy than 
the motion of a vessel that, gliding down the 
stream, is borne onwards to the cataract that shall 
hurl it to destruction? But bring the boat's 
head round, and a struggle begins ; peace is gone 
now ; she trembles from stem to stern ; and by 
her violent plunges, the waves that break over her 
bows, and, shaking every timber, threaten to 
ingulf her, you know the power and presence 
of a current that had been quietly wafting her on 
to ruin. 

Thus it is with man and temptation, so soon 
as he is converted. No sooner is peace with God, 
through Christ, settled, than war is proclaimed ; 
and the man involved in its arduous and life-long 
struggles. I have seen one that had grown gray 
in the army, and yet had never been under fire ; 
or seen the serried bayonets glance, but on 
parade. The Captain of our salvation has no 
such soldiers ; His have given and suffered many 
wounds ; and have all a sore fight of it. This 
conflict begins with conversion, and if I might 
borrow an illustration from heathen fables, the 
infant Hercules has to strangle serpents in his 
cradle. So soon as a man is new-born, and turns 
his face heavenward, he has hell to confront 
and fight with. And, besides the devil and his 
angels, besides the world and its seductive influ- 
ences, in passions that he has lodged in his breast, 
and fed by long indulgence into strength, it may 



IN TEMPTATION. 45 

be said that "his enemies are the men of his own 
house." And such in number and in power are 
the temptations with which a good man has to 
contend, that no Christian will think the language 
of David extravagant: "They compassed me 
about ; they compassed me about like bees. My 
soul is among lions ; and I lie even among them 
that are set on fire." Nay, there are times, and 
terrible temptations, when, in the language of a 
psalm, part, and some suppose all, of which our 
Lord repeated on His cross, he may be ready 
to cry, " Many bulls have compassed me : strong 
bulls of Bashan have beset me round. They 
gaped upon me with their mouths, as a ravening 
and a roaring lion. I am poured out like water, 
and all my bones are out of joint, my heart is 
like wax. My strength is dried up like a pot- 
sherd : thou hast brought me into the dust of 
death ; for dogs have compassed me. O Lord, 
my strength, haste thee to help me. Deliver my 
soul from the sword ; my darling from the power 
of the dog. Save me from the lion's mouth ; hear 
me from the horns of the unicorns." 

If these figures are appropriate, how formid- 
able are our temptations ! It might seem im- 
possible that victory could crown our arms in 
a war waged against enemies that swarm thick 
as bees ; that are strong as bulls, and fierce as 
ravening lions. Yet, hear what God says : " Thou 
shalt tread on the lion and adder, the young lion 
and the dragon shalt thou trample under foot ;" 
and hear Paul, as, calmly descending into the vale 
of death, he goes, singing, like a brave old war- 
rior — "I have fought the good fight, I have 



46 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

finished my course, I have kept the faith. Here • 
after there is laid up for me a crown of righteous- 
ness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall 
give me at that day." Nor is that all — proclaim- 
ing equal triumphs through the same grace to 
others, he adds, " and not to me only, but to 
all who love his appearing." Let the good man 
be assured that his victory over temptation is 
certain, if he goes about it aright. It turns much 
on prayer. Thrown into the scale, that decides 
the battle ; drawing on divine strength, that 
makes little Davids more than a match for giant 
sins. What devil is there but may be cast out by 
prayer and fasting? 

Yet, prayer is not enough. Like our fathers 
when they conquered the English at Bannockburn, 
or the English when they conquered the French at 
Cressy, we are to rise from our knees ; to stand up 
and fight ; to quit us like men ; " having done all," 
to stand. We are to put on the whole armor of 
God ; and, since we know neither when nor where 
the adversary may assault us, we are never to put 
it off. Live and die in harness — using such pre- 
cautions, as some say Cromwell did against the 
assassin's dagger — his dress concealed a shirt of 
mail : and in the council-chamber, at the banquet, 
in courts as in camps, he wore that always. To his 
workshop, the counting-room, the social circle, the 
market, the place of business, the scenes of his most 
innocent enjoyments, let a good man go, as the 
peasant of the East goes to his plough. With larks 
singing in blue skies above his head, and daisies, 
bathed in dew springing at his feet, and feathered 
flocks from sounding shore and noisy woods wheeling 



IN TEMPTATION. 47 

round, and feeding in the furrows behind him, our 
ploughman, void of care, and fearless of danger, 
whistles at his work ; but yonder, where fiery- 
Bedouins scour the land, and bullets whistling from 
the bush may suddenly call the peasant to drop the 
ox-goad and fly to arms, the sun glances on other 
iron than the plough-share — a sword hangs at his 
thigh, and a gun is slung at his back. 

To pray, to fight, are important ; but not less 
important if we would have no man take our 
crown, and, resisting, overcome temptation, is a 
right understanding of its springs and sources. 
The physician is most likely to cure disease who 
has discovered its seat and nature ; while the 
patient dies in the hands of him who prescribes for 
the head, when it is the heart that is diseased. To 
save a ship from sinking, we must find the leak. 
Temptations, like noxious weeds, are best killed by 
putting the knife to their root ; nor will the stream 
of our thoughts, and wishes, and desires ever be 
sanctified till the salt, as at Jericho, is cast in at the 
spring. Let us see, therefore, where the springs 
and sources of sin lie. 

The source of temptation is not in God. 

The apostle St. James is clear on this point. He 
says, " Let no man say, when he is tempted, I am 
tempted of God ; for God cannot be tempted with 
evil, neither tempteth he any man." 

In the mountains of the Black Forest an extra- 
ordinary appearance is occasionally seen. With 
the sun just rising at your back, you look across 
the valley on the curtain of mist that, hung from 
the skies, falls in rolling folds on the opposite hill ; 
and there, wearing a faint halo round his head, 



48 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

stands the giant spectre of the mountains — a colos- 
sal form of vast proportions, looking as if, at one 
bound, he could leap from hill to hill, and tearing 
up oaks and rocks, hurl them at the head of his 
enemies. The terror of superstitious peasants, the 
origin of many a wild — unearthly legend, this is a 
mere vision — a shadow without substance. It has 
no reality. Observed to bend or stand erect, to 
move a limb or arm after him, to repeat every 
motion of the spectator, it is nothing more than his 
own form, immensely magnified ; and projected on 
the cloud, like the pictures of a magic lantern on its 
screen. Such pictures on the mind's fancy were the 
pagan deities ; the object of the heathen's worship, 
whether Baal, or Jupiter, or Venus, or Mars, or 
Bacchus, being but a projection of the man himself 
on the field of fancy, with the faculties and passions 
of humanity all immensely magnified. A strange 
mixture, like himself, of vices and of virtues, they 
illustrate the words of God, Thou thoughtest that 
I was altogether such an one as thou art ; and thus 
formed, these gods were tempted with evil, and 
with evil tempted men. 

Importing this idea of heathenism, or perhaps 
misunderstanding the Scriptures, where God, ac- 
cording to an Eastern idiom, is said to do what in 
fact He but permits to be done — as when it is said 
that He "hardened Pharaoh's heart," it appears 
that in the days of the apostle St. James, some 
accused God of sin ; alleging, in excuse of their 
sins, that they were tempted of Him. We shrink 
with horror from such an idea. " Their rock is 
not as our Rock." Time casts its stains on the 
purest snow, and the sun shines not undimmed 



IN TEMPTATION. 49 

by spots ; but we bow in the dust before God, 
as a being of ineffable purity and infinite holi- 
ness. More shocked than if we heard some foul 
crime imputed to parents we venerate and love, 
we recoil from the thought that He before whom 
angels stand veiled and in whose eyes even the 
heavens are not clean, could either be Himself 
tempted to commit sin, or could tempt any to 
commit it. 

Yet what many would not directly, they indi- 
rectly lay at God's door — in the attempt to excuse 
themselves, accusing Him. Look, for example, 
at Adam's answer to the question, Hast thou 
eaten of the tree ? Summoned from his hiding- 
place, standing beside the blushing partner of his 
guilt, overwhelmed by strange terrors, trembling 
in every limb, the prey of anguish and remorse, 
had histongue, cleaving to the roof of his mouth, 
refused to do its office, we should not have been 
astonished. But he replies ; and his answer be- 
trays cunning rather than confusion. How mean 
and dastardly, how base and selfish and hateful, 
has sin made this once noble creature ! How are 
the mighty fallen ! See him trying to turn over 
on his poor wife the whole vengeance of an angry 
God ! He attempts to save himself, and leave her 
to bear the brunt of it ; hers is the guilt ; she is 
the temptress. Hear him : " The woman, she 
gave me and I did eat." Nor is that all ; nor 
" the front of his offending." More, and worse 
still, he divides the blame between her and God. 
It is not simply, " the woman gave me and I did 
eat," but " the woman that thou gavest me> she 
gave me, and I did eat ;" a serpent in my bosom, 

4 



50 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

I got her from thee ; the circumstances in which 
thou didst place me, more than my own fault, are 
answerable for my sin. " The woman that thou 
gavest me !" What was this but a covert way of 
accusing God ; a bold insinuation that God, not 
he, was to blame for the Fall ; an excuse, that, 
like all our apologies for sin, adds insult to injury ; 
and but aggravates the offence ? 

I do not fancy any are so bold and bad as of 
deliberate intent to lay the guilt of their crimes on 
God. Yet what else, in fact, do they, who make 
a scapegoat of their circumstances — attributing 
their sins to constitutional temperament, or to the 
headlong power of their passions, or to the diffi- 
culties of their position, or to the suddenness or 
the strength of their trials ? These apologies, 
whether offered to men, or used to allay guilty 
fears, and quiet an uneasy conscience, throw the 
blame of sin on Providence ; and to throw the 
blame of it on Providence, is to throw it upon 
God. Excuses such as these but add to our 
guilt. They may now satisfy, or rather stupefy 
our conscience, but they shall stand us in no 
stead at the bar of Him who neither tempts 
nor is tempted. He has left us without excuse. 
Assured that God will not suffer any, that seek 
Him, to be tempted above that they are able to 
bear, but will with the temptation also make a 
way of escape, we are without excuse ; but not 
without a remedy. Blessed be God ! the blood of 
Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin. 

The source of temptation is in ourselves. 

" Every man is tempted when he is drawn away 
of his own lust, and enticed." 



IN TEMPTATION. 5 1 

If you apply a magnet to the end of a needle 
that courses freely on its pivot, the needle, affected 
by a strange attraction, approaches as if it loved 
it. Reverse the order, apply the magnet now to 
the opposite end — to the other pole, and the 
needle shrinks away, trembling, as if it did not 
love, but hated it. So it is with temptation. One 
man rushes into the arms of vice; another recoils 
from them with horror. Joseph starts back, say- 
ing, How can I do this great wickedness, and sin 
against God ? What is loved by one, is loathsome 
in another's eyes ; and according as the nature it 
addresses is holy or unholy, temptation attracts or 
repels ; gives pain or pleasure ; is loved or hated. 
It is our corrupt and evil passions that give its 
power to temptation. These are the combustibles 
it fires ; the quick and fiery powder, that a spark 
which a dewdrop had quenched, flashes into an 
explosion. 

In their visits to our world, the angels were 
exposed to temptation ; but what harm did they 
suffer ? None. Amidst wide-spread contagion, 
they never were infected ; nor, as people import 
the plague from other countries, did they take sin 
away with them on their return to heaven, and 
spread the deadly pestilence in that sinless land. 
Can a man take fire in his bosom, and his clothes 
not be burned ? True ; yet angels suffered no- 
thing from coming in contact with sinners ; but 
passed among them as unstained as the sunbeam 
of their heavens through the murky air of our 
smoky cities. Like a flower that, brought from 
breezy hill or open moor, pines away amid the 
pent-up and poisoned atmosphere of our towns, 



52 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

Lot's graces were blighted by his residence in 
Sodom ; it corrupted him, but not his heavenly 
visitors. True, it may be said that, since our un- 
happy fall, the stay of angels in our world has 
been brief, and that sin had no time to affect their 
constitution — that the leaven had no time to work. 
But time is of no account in their case ; nor would 
it be in ours if the Fall had not furnished occasion 
to cry, How is the gold become dim ; how is the 
most fine gold changed ? Pure gold may remain 
in the fire a thousand years without loss of sub- 
stance ; without contracting a single stain, or 
losing an atom of its weight. The fire that turns 
the oak into ashes, marble into dust, iron into rust, 
has no power to destroy, or even injure, a metal 
that shines but the brighter for the glowing flames. 
Gold is therefore called, in the language of metal- 
lurgy, a perfect metal ; and were we perfect — 
perfect in holiness — the only effect of life's fiery 
trials would be, not to burn up, but to brighten 
the features of God's image. Thus I believe no 
angel ever descended on our world, but he re- 
turned to his native heavens to abhor sin more ; 
to hate it with a more perfect hatred ; and with 
deeper, holier feelings to sing, as he resumed his 
place in the shining ranks, and joined his fellows 
in their song — Holy, holy, holy, art thou, Lord 
God Almighty, who was, and is, and art to come ! 
Look at our Lord's case ! How clearly it shows 
that temptation, however much to be dreaded by 
us, is harmless, unless where it finds corruption — 
that the seed dies, unless it falls on a congenial 
soil ! He lived among temptations for more than 
thirty successive years. For more than thirty 



IN TEMPTATION. 53 

years His holy manhood was in the fire ; an^i He 
came out of it without stain or sin. The Lamb of 
God, without spot or blemish, holy, harmless, 
undefiled, He was among, and yet separate from, 
sinners. A remarkable phenomenon this ! one 
sinless among the sinful ; pure amid pollution ; a 
faultless man, in whose chaste and placid bosom 
temptation never kindled a wish, a thought, a 
fancy that might not be exposed to the eyes 
both of God and man. He himself explains the 
wonder — " The prince of this world cometh, and 
hath nothing in me." 

Who, therefore, would keep out of sin, should 
give his chief attention to the state of his heart ; 
ever praying with David — Create in me, O God, 
a clean heart, and renew a right spirit within me ! 
Not that a good man will overlook the influence 
of external circumstances, the temptations of his 
position, or the character of his companions ; not 
that we are ever to rush into temptation — naked 
into the battle ; or enter it without fear and trem- 
bling till we are perfect in holiness. Stand in 
awe, and sin not. We cannot be too careful to 
keep out of the reach of sin ; not to stand in the 
way of sinners ; not to breathe pestilential air. 
Bathe not in the brightest waters where sharks 
are playing ! By prayer, by self-denial, by, as St. 
Paul did, keeping the body under, give sin no 
hold of you. Imitate yon ancient wrestler, who, 
laying aside his robes and ornaments, and all the 
bravery of his attire, steps naked into the arena 
— limbs and body shining with slippery oil ; clos- 
ing with an antagonist, whose hands, slipping on 
the unctuous limbs, catch no firm hold, he heaves 



54 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

him up to hurl him in the dust, and bear off the 
palm — honor won, less by his power than by his 
wise precaution. If prevention is better than cure, 
precaution is better than power ; therefore ought 
a good man ever to watch and pray that he enter 
not into temptation ; his prayer, that which our 
Lord has taught us, Lead us not into temptation 
but deliver us from evil. 

Our corrupt nature, acted on by temptation, is 
the source of sin. 

" Lust, when it hath conceived, bringeth forth 
sin." 

The woman died because she ate of the tree : 
and she ate of the tree because she lusted after its 
fruit. In doing so, in the first instance, she toyed 
with temptation — a thing more dangerous than to 
play with fire-arms. With an overweening confi- 
dence in herself, she thought, perhaps, as many do, 
that she might venture a certain way ; and, stop- 
ping at her own pleasure, draw up — though in 
circumstances where poor reason is like the driver 
pulling at the reins, when the coach, at the heels 
of maddened and mastersome horses, is whirling 
to an upset half-way down hill. Confidence in 
one's self, giving presence of mind, is sometimes 
of advantage ; but never in those spiritual con- 
flicts where strength is weakness ; and, as leading 
us to fly from danger to the arms of God, weak- 
ness is found to be strength. 

The fatal mistake, which our mother committed, 
lay in not taking alarm at the first sign of evil, 
and in the first bad, wrong thought, the nascent 
desire for a forbidden pleasure, crushing sin in the 
egg — putting her foot on the spark ; like Job, who 



IN TEMPTATION. 55 

made a covenant with his eyes, shutting hers to 
the tempting color of the fruit ; stopping her 
ears to the talk of the cunning devil ; flying, as if 
she had seen the serpent in its own proper shape, 
with crest erect, and burning eyes, and form coiled 
to spring — flying with terror from the scene, call- 
ing her husband Adam, calling God himself from 
heaven to her help. 

Beware, therefore, of evil in the buddings of 
desire ! Whoever allow themselves to indulge in 
evil imaginations or thoughts, are preparing them- 
selves to commit the crimes they fancy. Desires 
are the seed of deeds. Working in the dark, and 
all the more dangerous that their progress, like a 
miner's, is silent and unseen, they sap the walls of 
virtue ; and thus the man of God is overthrown by 
temptations that otherwise had broken on him, as 
breaks the mountain billow on a front of rock. 
May not the bad thoughts and fancies, that do 
their work secretly and unsuspected within the re- 
cesses of the heart, account for those sudden falls 
and sins on the part of such good men as David, 
that neither they, nor others, would have ever 
dreamt of? The mischief is due less to the temp- 
tation than to what preceded it — and prepared 
for it. You are walking, for example, through a 
forest. Across your path, and on the ground lies, 
stretched out in death, a mighty tree, tall and 
strong — fit mast to carry a cloud of canvas, and 
bear unbent the strain of tempests. You put your 
foot lightly on it ; and how great your surprise 
when, breaking through the bark, it sinks deep 
into the body of the tree — a result much less 
owing to the pressure of your foot, than to the 



56 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

poisonous fungi and foul, crawling insects that had 
attacked its core. They have left the outer rind 
uninjured — but hollowed out its heart. Take care 
your heart is not hollowed out ; and nothing left 
you but the crust and shell of an empty profession. 

Keep thy heart, therefore, with all diligence. 
Give it your chief and most anxious attention. 
Guard most sedulously, and cultivate most prayer- 
fully that part of you where the true man lives ; 
and which, unseen by any but God, neither incurs 
the blame, nor wins the applauses of men. It 
is in its inner chamber— remote from the public 
eye, that sins, and also noble deeds, are born : 
there, the play of life is rehearsed ; and that per- 
formed in fancy which is afterwards acted before 
a thousand eyes ; there, God or Satan sits en- 
throned ; there, lie the deep, hidden fountains of 
good or evil ; there, visited by angels, or haunted 
by demons, is a little heaven or a little hell. Be 
sure you keep it for God. Be thy body His 
temple, and thy heart the secret shrine, where the 
light of the Shechinah burns, and the holy law is 
preserved, and good angels spread their wings over 
the blood-besprinkled seat of mercy, and the spirit 
of man, all alone, like the solitary High Priest 
within the veil, holds closest intercourse with God. 
Holiest of temples ! see that nothing enter or find 
lodgment there that can hurt or defile. 

The fruit of sin is death. 

What man is he that desireth life, and loveth 
many days ? The Psalmist answers his own ques- 
tion, and in the ordinary course of Providence 
what rule so good as his to attain longevity, and 
fall at mellow autumn like a shock of corn in 



IN TEMPTATION. $7 

its season ? There is more truth in his answer, 
though it be summed up in a single sentence, 
than in whole volumes on medicine and the art 
of preserving, or restoring health. What man, 
desiring life, and loving many days, would, where 
rosy infants play with hoary locks, see his children, 
and his children's children ? Let him, says David, 
depart from evil and do good. In the ruddy 
cheek, and robust form, and elastic step, and 
bounding health, and iron frame, and the long, 
light-hearted, laughing, singing, happy years — the 
green old age which the early and continued prac- 
tice of Christian virtues so often insures — we have 
still some links, some lingering vestiges of the old 
marriage tie between a sinless and an endless life. 

Death has passed on all men, because all have 
sinned. And looking only at temporal death, see 
how vice hurries multitudes into the grave — 
shortening their days, and rudely shaking out the 
sands of life. Some four or five years, on an 
average, darkly closes the life of such as seduced 
become seducers ; and prowl our streets, like night 
wolves, ravening for their prey. So perishes many 
a sweet flower that a villain's hand did pluck ; and, 
when it had lost its blooming attractions, flung on 
the street to be trodden under foot as the veriest, 
vilest weed. Is not the cup where the wine 
conceals a serpent, and the vile dregs are shame, 
and sorrow and disease, offered to the drunkard's 
lips by a grisly hand ? Immorality wrecks more 
fortunes than adversity ; and bad habits make more 
bankrupts than bad trade. Vice supplies the greedy 
grave with more victims than war — more of our 
countrymen, directly or indirectly, year by year, 



58 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

perish by the bottle than fell in Britain's greatest 
and bloodiest battle ; more cruel than old Time, 
she plucks the scythe from his hands, and, with 
rapid step and long sweep, mowing down the fairest 
flowers of the grass, she cuts short the life of thou- 
sands he had spared for years. Time " slays his 
thousands," but Vice her "tens of thousands." 
Many do not live out half their days. Even when 
their sun does not go down at noon, and life's lamp, 
not blown, is left to burn out, how true of many 
are the words of the Naamathite — " His bones are 
full of the sin of his youth, which shall be down with 
him in the dust." While godliness is profitable for 
all things, having the promise of the life that now 
is, as well as of that which is to come, in the horrid 
diseases, and in the many grim shapes of death 
.which follow the steps of vice, and form the train 
;both of Bacchus and of the Paphian queen, God 
brands sin with the stamp of His high displeasure. 
But here death does not carry our thoughts only 
to the grave, but beyond the grave — into eternity 
— down into the pit. It is a sad and awful thing 
to see one struggling in the arms of death ; to 
watch the light of life sinking in its socket, till, 
sometimes with a dying flash, it expires ; to gaze 
on the pale, silent, solemn, lifeless corpse ; to hear 
the mould, from sexton's shovel, rattle hollow on 
the coffin ; and when his spade has smoothed the 
grassy turf, and uncovered mourners have paid 
farewell honors to the dead, to leave a loved one 
to moulder away into the dust of death. Yet 
faith in Jesus can stand these trials. Soaring to 
the heavens where the spirit has fled, anticipating 
the hour when graves shall heave, and rending 



IN TEMPTATION. 59 

tombs shall open for mortal to spring into immor- 
tality, faith can go through the last parting as 
friends, standing on the shore, wave hands and 
handkerchiefs to the emigrants they are to follow 
in the next ship ; and rejoin ere long in a better 
land. But where there is no true faith in Christ, 
and peace has never been made with God through 
the blood of His cross, sins are finished in a more 
dreadful death — the second death — eternal death 
— in those doleful regions where the dying never 
die. "Rest for the weary;" " There is no sorrow 
there ;" these revival hymns are sung of another 
land. Here is no rest for the weary ; the eye 
never closes ; no sleep brings sweet forgetfulness ; 
no hope ever whispers, It will soon be over ; but 
despair, with stony horror in her face, shakes her 
snaky locks, and, gnashing her teeth, mutters, It 
will never be over — never ! 

Looking at death under this aspect, on the brink 
of the "horrible pit," I almost cease to wonder 
that God gave up His Son to save us — there is 
something so dreadful in that doom. The reason- 
ableness, as well as love of the Cross, is nowhere 
seen so well as by the light of these lurid gleams ; 
and where are seen so well the unreasonableness, 
the folly, the mad insanity of all who put away 
God's mercy, and day by day neglect this great 
salvation ? Strong in the goodness of his cause, 
with his back to the throne of God, and his foot 
planted on the rock of truth, a man can stand 
against the world ; who is supported by a Father's 
hand, can stand erect beneath any load of sorrow ; 
who has made his calling and election sure, can 
stand unmoved by the approach of death, and even 



6d man and the gospel. 

urge him to hasten his tardy steps — with the eager 
voice and outstretched arms of a lover, crying, 
Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly ! But who shall 
be able to stand, and hear this doom pronounced on 
his downcast head, Depart from me, ye cursed, into 
everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his 
angels ? From that fate, Jesus died, and is now 
willing — now waits to save you. Haste to the 
refuge 1 Flee to His arms from the wrath to come ! 



TRUE RELIGION. 6l 



" Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, To 
visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself 
unspotted from the world." — St. James i. 27. 

THE sky which, whether studded with stars 
or hung in gold and purple, or one azure field 
over which the sun wheels his glowing course, 
presents always a glorious, occasionally a very 
extraordinary appearance. Not one but two suns 
are there ; and in the Arctic regions, as if to com- 
pensate the long periods when their skies are left 
to perpetual night, there are sometimes three — 
blazing away in brilliant rivalry, and shedding in- 
crease of light on sparkling icebergs and the dreary 
wastes of snow. Yet, though there were not 
three but three hundred suns, only one of them 
could be a true sun. The others, which are pro- 
duced by a peculiar state of the atmosphere, being, 
though bright, yet mere images, are analogous, to 
borrow a familiar illustration, to the multiplied 
candles that shine on the silvered facets of a re- 
flector. As with these suns, so is it with the 
various religious systems of the world. They are 
many ; numbered not loy units, but hundreds. 
Almost every new country that voyagers have 
discovered has, with new trees and new flowers 
and new animals, presented a new form of faith* 



62 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

The world has no building big enough to hold all 
the gods that men do worship. Yet, though 
greater in number, and much greater in essential 
differences, than the races of mankind — for, differ- 
ing in color and contour as the negro and the 
white man do, they meet in Adam, God having 
made of one blood all the families of the earth — 
among these many religions there is but one true ; 
the rest are false — false as the mock suns of an 
Arctic sky. For as God is one, truth is one ; and 
though the true may be separated from the false 
by a line as sharp as the edge of a razor, still they 
stand as irreconcilable as if they were parted by 
the whole distance of the poles. There are " lords 
many, and gods many," yet but one true God ; 
even so there are many faiths and forms of reli- 
gion, and yet but one " pure and undefiled before 
God." 

It has been said there are many ways of going 
out of the world, and but one of coming into it ; 
and it may be said there are many roads to hell, and 
but one to heaven. No doubt, in St. John's vision, 
where the final state and place of the blessed was 
represented as a glorious city, with streets of pure 
gold, and walls built of precious gems, all shining 
in light, that fell neither from sun nor moon, but 
streamed out in dazzling effulgence from the throne 
of God, he saw not one gate, but twelve. These 
gates, each a pearl, and opening on streets of gold, 
had a meaning. Standing open, and never shut by 
day or night, they betoken the security enjoyed by 
the blessed inhabitants ; and also how open heaven 
has been made to every sinner who seeks it through 
the blood of Christ. Approach it in the right way, 



TRUE RELIGION 63 

and whatever may have been your character, 
and is your age, country, or condition, you are free 
to enter unchallenged — without let or hindrance. 
No armed sentinels, as at earthly palaces, guard the 
gates that invite alike the feet of prince and beggar 
— Whosoever believeth in the Lord Jesus Christ 
shall not perish, but have everlasting life. But by 
these twelve gates St. John never meant that there 
are as many different ways of getting into heaven. 
This portion of sacred Scripture is a figure. It is 
to be understood within limits ; and is no more to 
be pushed too far than many of our Lord's para- 
bles. There is but one way to the kingdom of 
God — to a state of grace in this world, and a state 
of glory in the next. I, says Jesus, am the way, 
the truth, the life ; not one of many ways, but the 
one way. Come unto me y he also says, all ye that 
labor and are heavy laden, and /will give you 
rest ; and in perfect harmony with these declara- 
tions is that of an apostle, " There is no name 
given under heaven whereby man can be saved but 
the name of Jesus." There is but one true religion 
" pure and undefiled before God." 

We have this religion in our Bible. There it 
flows unadulterated and undefiled, fresh and pure 
as it came from the upper spring. Let us draw it 
at this well — not taking our faith from man or 
minister, but directly from the word of God ; lest 
it should be like water that acquires a poisonous 
quality from the leaden pipes it flows through. 
Yet though we have the true religion here, how 
many mistake what religion is ; its real character ; 
and in what its true life consists ! They fancy 
themselves to be religious ; and that all is right 



64 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

when all is wrong with them. There is a sense in 
which he that doubteth is damned ; but are not 
many damned just because they never doubt ? 
They go on, satisfied with themselves ; not doubt- 
ing but that they are on the right course, when 
every step they take leads them further and fur- 
ther astray. Sincere they may be, but it is not 
enough to be sincere. Sincerity and zeal, as well 
as ease of mind, and peace of conscience, may but 
more surely seal their fatal, utter ruin. For it 
stands to reason that the faster and further a man 
goes, if he take the wrong direction at starting, he 
goes but the further wrong : the more sail she car- 
ries, the more steam she puts on, the greater the 
impetus with which she takes the reef, the ship is 
sooner and more surely wrecked. What need, 
therefore, since there is but one safe course to 
heaven, that we should often take soundings! 
Why was that noble steamer which was wrecked 
some time ago on the coast of England lost ? 
not simply because she was caught in the sea mist, 
nor because she was often thrown out of her course 
by porting her helm to avoid collisions, but from 
false security — for want of soundings ! They had 
no doubt they were right, till the dreadful cry of 
breakers and a sudden crash too late revealed their 
danger. And if we would not make shipwreck of 
the faith, nor run the risk of never discovering our 
mistake till we find ourselves at the door of hell, 
or stand at the bar of judgment, to hear with black 
amazement the unexpected sentence, " Depart 
from me, for I have never known you, ye workers 
of iniquity," we will try our religion — put it to the 
test — see whether it is true religion, that which, 



TRUE RELIGION. 65 

to use the words of St. James, is " pure and un- 
defiled before God and the Father." 

What, then, is the character of this religion ? 
There are two ways of describing a thing — first, 
showing what it is not ; and second, what it is. 
Now, to follow, meanwhile, the first of these 
methods, I purpose showing that 

True religion does not lie in talking about it. 

In our Church and country the pulpit has all the 
speaking. In Jewish synagogues, as appears from 
our Lord's history, it was not so. Any person in 
the assembly who had got anything good to say, 
might say it. It appears from the Epistles that 
this custom was engrafted on the Christian Church, 
and flourished in its early days ; and some who 
abused this privilege, and, being talkative and con- 
ceited, were, perhaps, ever thrusting themselves on 
the public notice, may have been in his eye, when 
St. James, laying down a rule valuable at all ages, 
and at all times, said, Be swift to hear, and slow to 
speak. Though the customs of the Church have 
changed with time, and speaking in public is now 
commonly confined to the pulpit, there is still dan- 
ger — and especially in these times of religious 
excitement — of fancying, because we can and do 
talk about religion, that we are religious. 

There are individual as well as national pecu- 
liarities ; and, in this country, the common error 
certainly is not to talk too much, but too little, 
about religion ; or, at least, too little religiously. 
In Scotland, at least, we are taciturn ; and carry 
our proverbial canniness to a fault. How little 
do those of us who are undoubtedly on the way 
to heaven resemble a body of emigrants on ship- 

5 



66 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

board — on their way across the ocean to America ! 
Listen to that group of men, women, and children 
that have seen their native hills sink below the 
wave, and, now leaning over the bows, are looking 
a-head ! Compared with theirs, how little does 
our conversation turn on the land in prospect ; 
its employments ; its enjoyments ; the friends 
that wait our coming ? Throwing off false shame, 
let us be more faithful to the souls of men, and 
to a world that lieth in wickedness ; and much 
more free in converse with each other about the 
Prince and the things of the heavenly kingdom — 
after the manner of the men of old, of whom it is 
said, They that feared the Lord spake often one to 
another. 

Still, it should not be forgotten, lest any deceive 
themselves, that to talk about religion, ministers 
and sermons, missions and missionaries, religious 
schemes and books, revivalists and revivals, is not 
religion. Some have been the most fluent talkers 
about these things who felt them least. Shallow 
rivers are commonly noisy rivers ; and the drum is 
loud because it is hollow. Fluency and feeling 
don't always go together. On the contrary, some 
men are most sparing of speech when their feel- 
ings are most deeply engaged. I have been told 
that there is an awful silence in the ranks before 
the first gun is fired, and little talking heard dur- 
ing the dreadful progress of the battle, or sound, 
save the roar of cannon, the cries of wounded, 
the shouts of attack, the bursts of musketry, and 
bugles sounding the charge. And I have also 
heard men say, that when the ship is laboring 
for her life, and every moment may decide her 



TRUE RELIGION. 67 

fate, and whether she shall clear reef or headland 
hangs in anxious suspense, there is no talking, 
nothing heard amid the roaring of the storm but 
the voice of officers, as they shout forth their 
orders — to cut away the mast — let go the sails — 
or put the helm hard a-port. Deep passions, like 
deep waters, often run silent ; and men in earnest 
are more given to act than to talk. True, Out of 
the fulness of the heart the mouth speaketh ; still, 
the fuller the heart is, the less fluent sometimes is 
the speech. There are things too deep for utter- 
ance. Strong gratitude, deep love, are not fluent ; 
nor is intense anxiety. The sight of her child 
wrapped in flames, or tottering on the edge of a 
precipice, has paralyzed its mother ; rooted to the 
ground — she has gazed in speechless horror, unable 
to raise a shriek, or move a foot to save it. 

Besides, owing, perhaps, to constitutional pecu- 
liarities, the religion of some has its most perfect 
emblem in Christ's own words, Ye are the light 
of the world. It is a thing seen, not heard ; it 
shines, but it makes no sound ; not often found 
on their lips, but always in their lives. Who, 
that ever heard, has forgotten a story told by Dr. 
Chalmers when he pleaded for the right of Chris- 
tian congregations to reject a minister against 
whom they felt, but could not state, objections ? 
A woman sought admission to the Lord's table. 
At her examination she broke down ; unable to 
give her pastor any satisfactory answers, she was 
dumb, or her replies were such as made her ap- 
pear stupid and ignorant. He did not feel that 
he could admit her to the table of the Lord ; and 
told her so. Cut to the heart she rose ; she 



68 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

reached the door ; but, ere she left, with the tear 
shining in her eye, and in tones that went to the 
good man's heart, she said, referring to our Lord, 
11 Sir, though I cannot speak for Him, I could die 
for Him !" Blessed speech ! and blessed woman ! 
the gate of heaven was opening to her advancing 
steps ! 

Such love to Jesus Christ is the soul of true 
religion. And without their becoming loud talk- 
ers, or making a parade of piety, it will lead those 
that feel its power to " exhort one another daily ;" 
to try to bring sinners to the Saviour ; and — as 
many who have overcome a false modesty are 
now doing — to seize all opportunities of dealing 
faithfully with other men about their souls. Why 
should not we tell others the way to heaven if we 
ourselves have found it ? Why should not we 
warn a man who, unconscious of his danger, is 
approaching the brink of ruin ? Why should not 
we snatch the poisoned chalice from a brother's 
lips ? Why should not we reach a hand down- to 
the drowning, and pluck him from the jaws of 
death, and seat him beside us on the rock where 
there is room for both ? If people are loud in the 
praises of the physician who has cured them of 
some deadly malady — recommending others to 
trust and seek his skill, why should not Christ's 
people crown Him with equal honors, commend 
Him to a dying world, and proclaim what He has 
done for them ? Let them say with David, Come, 
all ye that fear the Lord, and I will tell what He 
hath done for my soul ; and tread in the steps of 
the Samaritan who threw away her pitcher, and, 
running to the city, brought them all out — crying, 



TRUE RELIGION. 69 

Come see a man who hath told me all things that 
I have ever done. 

It is a bad thing ostentatiously to parade reli- 
gion ; but it is a base thing for a Christian man 
to be ashamed of it ; not to stand by his colors ; 
by his silence, if not his speech, to deny his 
Master ; to sneak away, like a coward, out of the 
fight. Stand up for Christ everywhere ; speak 
for Him ; suffer the scorn of the world for Him ; 
and, among the ungodliest crew, quit you like 
men, saying, 

" I'm not ashamed to own my Lord, 
Or to defend His cause, 
Maintain the glory of His cross, 
And honor all His laws. 

u Jesus, my Lord ! I know His name, 
His name is all my boast ; 
Nor will He put my soul to shame. 
Nor let my hope be lost." 

Religion does not lie in cherishing bitter feelings 
towards those who differ from us. 

"Be slow to wrath," says St. James, "for the 
wrath of man worketh not the righteousness of 
God. If any man among you seem to be religious 
and bridleth not his tongue, but deceiveth his own 
heart, this man's religion is vain." From a small 
town that lay in the bosom of gently swelling hills, 
rose, some with spires and some without them, 
three or four churches, belonging to the chief de- 
nominations of our country — the sign at once of 
our religious liberties and religious earnestness. 
On a sweet summer evening a traveller looked 
along the valley on this peaceful scene, when a 
shower of rain was falling. Suddenly the sun 



70 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

broke out, and flung a bright bow on the cloud, 
that, like that of mercy, discharged its showers on 
all. The rainbow encircled within its arms suburb 
and city, lofty church and humble meeting-house. 
And was it not a true and happy fancy that saw 
in this heavenly bow an emblem of that covenant 
which, irrespective of minor differences, embraces 
all believers within the same arms of mercy ? 

How different from this genial spirit that of 
gloomy bigotry ! Scowling on charity, it would 
probably pronounce that thought about the rain- 
bow to have more poetry than piety in it. I 
would not be uncharitable even to uncharitable- 
ness ; but it is very unlovely. It holds the truth ; 
but it is in unrighteousness. It contends for the 
truth ; but it is with unholy passions — often per- 
suading itself that it is religious when it is but 
rancorous. Some appear to think that to be 
narrow-minded is to be heavenly-minded. A 
great mistake ! The black, bitter sloe of the 
hedges appears in the garden with the fair hues 
and sweet juices of the plum ; and it is certainly 
no proof that a man's temper is sanctified that 
it is sour. Christians never should forget the 
meaning hidden in the very form which the Holy 
Spirit assumed when He dropped from the skies 
on our Saviour's head. The rapacious eagle, 
grasping thunderbolts in his talons, and sacred to 
Jove among the heathens, or rushing down from 
the rock on his quarry, has been the favorite 
ensign of bloody conquerers, and ambitious kings ; 
now, not it, but that gentle bird which, they say, 
has no gall, and is sacred to love, and whose 
snowy plumage was never dyed with a victim's 



TRUE RELIGION. J I 

blood, descends yonder by the quiet banks of 
Jordan on the head of Jesus. I do not say that 
religious men have never cherished an exclusive 
and narrow spirit. I admit that some excellent 
men have done so. 

Still, it is not religion to speak bitterly of those 
who differ from us ; it is not religion to minister 
at the altar with " strange fire ;" it is not religion 
to serve the cause of a loving God with unlovely 
passions ; it is not religion to defend Christ's 
crown with other weapons than His own sword ; 
it is not religion to be serious on light, and great 
on little things ; it is not religion to exalt points 
to the place of principles ; it is not religion to 
contend as earnestly for forms of worship as for 
the faith of the gospel ; it is anything but religion 
to dip our pens in gall, to give the tongue un- 
bridled license, and so to speak of others as to 
recall these words of Scripture — Their teeth are 
spears and arrows, and their tongue a sharp sword. 
There is no religion in the narrow, sectarian, ex- 
clusive prejudices which say, Can any good thing 
come out of Nazareth ? 

In this imperfect state, it is perhaps as impos- 
sible for two parties, as it is for flint and steel, 
to come into collision without eliciting some 
sparks of fire. It were foolish to expect that 
there should be nothing said or done in a time 
of religious controversy, which good men will 
see no reason afterwards to regret and to recall ; 
for that were to expect lesser men to be greater 
than apostles — holier than St. Paul and Barna- 
bas, between whom, as we are told, there rose a 
11 sharp contention." Nor even after the contro- 



72 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

versies have ceased, need we wonder that theif 
unhappy influences do not always, and all at 
once, cease with them. That were such a miracle 
as was only seen in Galilee, when at Christ's 
voice the winds and waves went down at once, 
and together. It is with human passion as with 
the sea, when violently agitated, stirred by some 
storm to its briny depths ; it continues, hours 
after the wind has ceased, to swell, and heave, 
and roll its foaming breakers on the beach. We 
are not to wonder that wounds received in contro- 
versy, like those received in battle, take some 
time to heal. It is reasonable to expect that ; 
though, as it were a bad sign of a man's consti- 
tution, if his wounds, however deep, turned into 
running sores, there is something wrong, un- 
hallowed, and unchristian in our spirit, if grace 
does not soften the asperities, and time close the 
wounds of controversy. 

There is a time of peace, says Solomon, as well 
as a time of war ; and when fields, white for the 
harvest, call Christians to sheath their swords and 
put in their sickles, he must be a stranger to the 
spirit of the gospel whose cry is, My voice is still 
for war. War? "They are for war, I am for 
peace," said David. And they who have imbibed 
most of the spirit of their Master, even when con- 
tending for the faith, will engage in quarrels with 
reluctance, and end them with pleasure. The 
Christian graces, like spice-bearing trees, grow best 
under serene and sunny skies. Nor should Chris- 
tian men ever enter keenly into any controversy 
that is not vital, unless it involve matters of 
paramount importance. The theology of our life 



TRUE RELIGION. ?$ 

should be the theology of the death-bed, amid 
whose solemn, deepening shadows small points 
and matters of form dwindle out of sight ; or 
rather are lost in the blaze of coming glory. The 
loftiest piety ever attaches the lowest importance 
to party badges and ecclesiastical distinctions ; 
and the holier the Christian grows, he will more 
and more resemble the holly tree, which, as it 
rises, and gets away from the ground, and shoots 
its top up to heaven, loses the thorny prickles 
from its leaves. Be assured that tenderness of 
heart, and gentleness of spirit, mark the highest 
form of Christianity ; and that the true fire of the 
Spirit, the celestial flame — like that which fell at 
Pentecost, blazes but never burns. Let the same 
mind be in you, therefore, that was in Jesus Christ ; 
otherwise, whatever be our creed, we are none of 
His. 

Religion does not lie in knowledge, or the observ- 
ance of religious forms. 

A man who rose on the wings of genius from 
obscurity to the highest fame, was, on an occasion 
of a visit to Edinburgh, walking with one who 
plumed himself on his wealth, and rank, and 
ancient family. As they strolled along the street, 
Burns — for of him I speak — encountered a country 
acquaintance, attired in rustic dress ; he seized 
him by the hand ; and leaving his companion 
offended and astonished, he linked his arm in the 
rustic's. With a manner that bespoke esteem 
and admiration of his humble friend, the poet 
made his way through the brilliant crowd that 
worshipped his genius, and ruined his morals. 
On returning, he was met with expressions of 



74 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

surprise that he could so demean himself, and 
stoop to walk the streets among his fashionable 
admirers with one in such a vulgar garb. " Fool," 
said Burns, his dark eye flashing, and his soul 
rising above the base pleasures and pursuits he 
had sunk to in high society, and returning to its 
own native region of noble sentiments ; " Fool," 
he said, " it was not the dress, the peasant's 
bonnet and the hodden gray, I spoke to, but 
to the man within ; the man who beneath that 
bonnet has a head, and under that hodden gray 
a heart better than yours, or a thousand such 
as yours." Nobly said ! A true distinction 
— too often forgotten, between the man and his 
externals ! Nor is this distinction anywhere 
more true, important, vital, than in the Church 
of God. Be it gorgeous like that of Rome in 
her stately temples, or simple like that of our 
fathers, with the blue heavens for a canopy, a 
lone glen for their church, the gray stones of 
the moor for communion tables, and, for music 
to the wild strain of their psalms, the dash of 
a waterfall or the roar of breakers — the ritual of 
a church is but her dress. And what more 
than his dress is a man's profession of piety, his 
religious forms and observances — those peculiar to 
the Sabbath, or common to every day ? They 
may be worn by the dead as well as the living. 
While St. Paul exhorts us to " hold fast the form 
of sound words," he speaks of some as " lovers of 
pleasure more than lovers of God ;" as " having 
the form of godliness, but denying the power 
thereof;" and there may be much of that in these 
days when, in contrast to the profane swearing, 



TRUE RELIGION. 75 

and deep drinking, and loose morals, and open 
neglect of worship both in the family and in the 
church, of the last century, religion is rather 
fashionable than otherwise. She now walks, to 
use John Bunyan's figure, in golden slippers on the 
sunny side of the street. 

Let us beware ! Form, dress, and paint are not 
life. In the studio of the artist, and, in the shape 
of man or woman, there stands a figure, the first 
sudden sight of which strikes most with surprise, 
and makes some start with fear. Is it dead or 
alive ? Supplied with joints that admit of motion, 
attired in the common garb of men or women, 
seated in a chair, or standing in easy attitude on 
the floor, it might pass for life, but for that still 
and changeless posture, those speechless lips, and 
fixed staring eyes. It is a man of wood. Cold 
paint, not warm blood, gives the color to its 
cheek ; no busy brain thinks within that skull ; 
no kind heart loves, or fervid passions burn within 
that breast. The lay figure that the artist dresses 
up to help him to represent the folds, the lights 
and shadows of the drapery, it is but death attired 
in the clothes of life ; and, like a hypocrite or 
formalist in the sight of God, is offensive rather 
than otherwise. And, as the dress there, however 
rich and costly, true and skilfully arranged, does 
not make a living man, no more do the observance 
of religion, attendance at church, going to the 
communion, closet prayer, family worship, the 
daily reading of God's Word, make a religious 
man — a living Christian. 

Be ye doers of the word, and not hearers only, 
deceiving your own selves, says St. James ; and, to 



76 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

take that example, though some may think they 
are religious because they read the Scriptures 
daily, religion does not consist in reading God's 
Word, nor in going to church to hear it preached, 
Sabbath by Sabbath. I say nothing against hear- 
ing ; God forbid. We are not to neglect the 
assembling of ourselves together. It is well to 
hear ; to pitch our tent where manna falls ; to sit 
by the pool where an angel stirs the waters, and 
descends to heal ; to go up to the mountain of the 
Lord, that, surmounted by the cross, and trodden 
by the feet of saints, has conducted many to the 
skies ; and on which, like mountain ranges that 
attract the clouds, and are watered by many 
showers that never fall in the valleys, the blessing 
most frequently and fully descends — God loveth 
the gates of Zion more than all the tabernacles of 
Jacob. But will hearing a discourse on fire warm 
a man ? on meat, feed him ? on medicine, cure 
him ? If not, no more will it save us to know all 
about the Saviour. It will no more take a man to 
heaven than it will take him to France, or Rome, 
or Jerusalem, that he knows the way. We must 
go, as well as know — travel, as well as be able to 
trace out the route. We get Christ presented to 
our acceptance every day ; but what of that ? 
What will that avail us, unless we accept of Him ? 
Have we done that ? It is not an offered but an 
accepted Saviour — nor is it the word heard, but 
the word done, diligently, habitually, prayerfully 
done, that will bring us to the kingdom of heaven. 
Otherwise, hearing, according to St. James, is 
like merely looking into a glass, which never yet 
arranged woman's hair, or washed man's dirty face. 



TRUE RELIGION. Jf 

We see the faces of others, not our own — not our 
own otherwise than by reflection. The wild beauty 
of the forest bends over some placid pool to feed 
her vanity, and admire charms that unadorned are 
adorned the most ; and before an artificial mirror 
her refined and polished sisters, with ornaments 
borrowed from birds, and beasts, and worms, the 
mines of earth and depths of ocean, may stand 
bedecked, and armed for conquests over fools. To 
such a looking-glass, but cast for another purpose, 
the apostle St. James compares God's Word. It is 
given of God that we may see ourselves spotted 
and stained with sin ; and seeing that, may go to 
wash away the foul pollution in the blood of 
Christ. And the mere hearers of the word, before 
whom I would hold up this heavenly glass to show 
the dark stains that lie not on their faces, but on 
their souls, what are they? They are like one 
that having seen his foul face reflected in a faithful 
mirror, goes away, not to wash it, but to forget all 
about it. Their religion lies all in hearing — not at 
all in doing. It is therefore vain. 

To know the way to heaven, sometimes to cast 
a longing eye in that direction, and by fit and start 
to make a feeble effort heavenwards, can end in 
nothing. Man must get the Spirit of God. Thus 
only can we be freed of the shackles that bind the 
soul to earth, the flesh, and sin. I have seen a 
captive eagle, caged far from its distant home, as 
he sat mournful-like on his perch, turn his eye 
sometimes heavenwards ; there he would sit in 
silence, like one wrapt in thought, gazing through 
the bars of his cage up into the blue sky ; and, 
after a while, as if noble but sleeping instincts had 



78 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

suddenly awoke, he would start and spread out hii 
broad sails, and leap upward, revealing an iron 
chain that, usually covered by his plumage, drew 
him back again to his place. But though this bird 
of heaven knew the way to soar aloft, and some- 
times, under the influence of old instincts, decayed 
but not altogether dead, felt the thirst for freedom, 
freedom was not for him, till a power greater than 
his own proclaimed liberty to the captive, and 
shattered the shackle that bound him to his perch. 
Nor is there freedom for us till the Holy Spirit 
set us free, and, by the lightning force of truth, 
breaks the chains that bind us to sin, — till, with 
the way laid open by the blood of His covenant, 
Jesus says to the Spirit, — Loose him, and let him 
go ; let him fly ; let him spurn the earth, and, on 
the wings of faith and prayer, soar away upward to 
the gates of glory. For that end, come Lord 
Jesus, come quickly ! 

Belonging to a church, or sect, said Baron Bun- 
sen on his death-bed, is nothing. The direction 
which the mind of that great and good man took 
on some theological subjects is much to be re- 
gretted — very much to be deplored. We have no 
sympathy with it. Yet, in those solemn hours 
when the shadow of death falls on the bed, and 
the depths of the soul rise to the surface, few have 
borne themselves more Christianly than Bunsen, 
or in their dying utterances, with failing, faltering 
breath, brought out more clearly, more beautifully, 
more attractively, the spirit of pure, undefiled, 
living, loving, true religion. I have spoken of it ; 
he speaks it. Let us, for an example of the reli- 
gion that lies not dead in forms, but lives in faith 



TRUE RELIGION. 79 

and love, turn our steps to the chamber where 
Bunsen is dying, amid the glories of a brilliant 
sunset — emblem of his own — the tears of his family, 
and the regrets of the world : " My best experi- 
ence, " he said, " is that of having known Jesus 
Christ. I leave this world without hating any one. 
No, no hatred : hatred is an accursed thing. Oh! 
how good it is to look upon life from this eleva- 
tion. One then perceives what an obscure exist- 
ence we have led upon earth. Upward ! upward ! 
It becomes not darker ; but always brighter, 
brighter. I am now in the kingdom. O my God, 
how beautiful are thy tabernacles ! Let us part in 
Jesus Christ. God is life, love, — love that wills ; 
will that loves. I see Christ, and I see God 
through Christ. I am dying, and I wish to die ; 
I offer my blessing, the blessing of an old man, to 
all who desire it ; I die in peace with all the world. 
Those who live in Christ, in loving Him, those are 
His. Those who do not live by His life do not 
belong to Him, by whatever name they may call 
themselves, and whatever confession of faith they 
may sign. Belonging to a church or sect is no- 
thing. I see clearly that we are all sinners ; we 
have only Christ in God ; all else is nothing. 
Christ is the Son of God, and we are His children 
only when the spirit of love which was in Christ is 
in us." 

This is a voice from the grave ; or rather from 
those heavens to which, notwithstanding their mis- 
takes and errors, true believers in Christ go to join 
their Lord. How grand these last utterances of 
a long, honored, brilliant, and useful life ! One 
among the greatest of his age in learning, and 



80 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

science, and humanity, and statesmanship, Bunsen 
left the world with this sentence ringing in its ears, 
— To love God in Christ is all : to belong to a 
church or sect is nothing — all else is nothing. 



DOING GOOD. AND BEING GOOD. 8 1 



" Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, To 
visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself 
unspotted from the world.** — St. James i. 27. 

With a natural sagacity that has been mistaken 
for prophecy, some men have seen far ahead of 
them. It is related of John Knox, for example, that 
he sent a message from his death-bed to Kirkcaldy 
of Grange, who then held Edinburgh Castle, warn- 
ing him to repent and turn from his evil ways, else 
he should be hanged up by the neck before the sun. 
He did not repent ; and he was hanged, exactly as 
Knox predicted. This was not prophecy. The 
Reformer's vision had not become clearer as he 
drew near eternity ; for there, as on other shores, 
the fog lies thickest. It grows darker rather than 
clearer as we are leaving the world ; and the 
change at death is perhaps as sudden as at birth — 
in a moment out of the profoundest darkness into 
a blaze of light. The prediction was due to the 
sagacity by which Knox was able to anticipate the 
probable issue of the circumstances in which Kirk- 
caldy had placed himself ; of the dangerous game 
he was playing. With such sagacity, though other- 
wise applied, Captain Cook, the great navigator, 
when engaged in the survey of New Zealand, be- 
fore the foot of a white man was ever planted on 

6 



82 MAN AND THE GOSPEL,. 

its shores, predicted the day when these remote 
islands, lying on the other side of the globe, almost 
beneath our feet, would become a valuable British 
colony. Nearly a century before the tide of emi- 
gration set that way, he saw our flag flying in its 
harbors, our shepherds feeding their flocks on its 
fern-covered hills, and perchance the unhappy wars 
which now rage there — to our shame, I fear — cer- 
tainly to the sorrow of its stout and gallant natives. 
Curiously enough, his foreknowledge grew like their 
fruit on the New Zealand trees. Sailing along, 
he saw these unknown shores covered, not with 
low scrub or brushwood, but with gigantic timber ; 
and — a sagacious man — he concluded that the soil 
must be deep, and rich, and strong, since none 
other could rear such forest giants. 

Now, what is true of the nature of the soil is 
equally true of the religion of the soul. You can 
always judge of it by what it yields. In both cases 
the crop is the test of character. By their fruits, 
says our Lord, ye shall know them. The soil is 
known by its trees ; and the trees are known by 
their fruit. True of the vineyard of the husband- 
man, this is true also of the Church — the vineyard 
of the Lord. It is not, therefore, what we profess, 
but practise ; it is not what a man says with his 
tongue, or signs with his hand, but what he does 
with his heart, that settles his religion in the sight 
of God, and on the great day of judgment shall 
settle his fate. Heaven is allotted to well-doers — 
the holy, loving, kind, gentle, merciful ; but ill- 
doers — the impious, the unholy, the greedy, the 
grasping, the cruel, the pitiless, shall have their 
portion in hell. Hear our Lord ! To those on His 



DOING GOOD, AND BEING GOOD. 83 

right hand He says, Well done ; not well said, or 
well believed, or well professed, or even well de- 
signed, but, Well done, good and faithful servants 
enter ye into the joy of your Lord ; to those on the 
left again, Depart from me, for I have never known 
you, ye workers of iniquity. 

The great Stagyrite thus opens one of his im- 
mortal works, This book is written not for know- 
ledge but for action. And for what other end 
was the Bible written — written by men, and in- 
spired of Heaven ? Not that we might know the 
truth, but do it ; not that we might know the way 
to heaven, but travel it ; not that we might know, 
but accept of an offered Saviour. Religion does 
not consist in doctrinal or prophetical speculations ; 
nor lie like a corpse entombed in old dusty con- 
fessions. She lives in action, and walks abroad 
among mankind — calling us to leave our books, to 
shut our Bibles, to rise from our knees, and go forth 
with hearts full of love and hands full of charities. 
According to St James, Pure and undefiled religion 
before God and the Father is this, To visit the 
fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep 
himself unspotted from the world. 

Such is true religion in the judgment of " God 
and the Father." 

God and the Father ! what a blessed conjunc- 
tion ! God and the Father ! that might breed 
hope in the darkest bosom ; for who, though 
lying in deepest dungeon, despairs of mercy that 
knows he is to be tried by his own father ? To 
be tried by our Father ! Is not that to be assured 
of pity and tenderness, of great allowance for our 
infirmities, and of a kinder consideration both of 



84 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

our difficulties and defects than angels or men 
would give ? This goes far to divest a judgment- 
day of its terrors. Our Father is to try us ; then 
may we sing — 

" Such pity as a father hath 
Unto his children dear ; 
Like pity shows the Lord to such 
As worship Him in fear." 

Looking with fond and partial eyes on his 
children, how slow is a father to discover their 
faults, and how ready to cover them ! He ap- 
proves and applauds their feeblest efforts to 
please him. See, though her song may violate 
the rules both of time and tune, how the father 
smiles on the fairy form that, with laughing eye, 
and golden locks, and blushing cheek, warbles 
out an infant's song to please him. But what 
father is like our Father that is in heaven ! How 
easily is He pleased, and how largely He rewards ! 
Why, He promises even a crown of glory for a 
cup of water given to a disciple, and raises to 
a throne all that have learned lessons of love, 
and kindness, and humility — sitting at Jesus's 
feet. He raiseth the poor out of the dust, and 
lifteth the needy out of the dunghill, that He 
may set him with princes — for Christ's sake forgiv- 
ing our greatest faults, and rewarding our smallest 
works. 

Still, though God will not look for perfection in 
our works as if they were to save those that are 
saved only by the righteousness of Christ, the 
final judgment is to turn on works. Look at the 
picture of that last judgment, as it was drawn by 
Christ's own hand ! The trumpet has sounded ; 



DOING GOOD, AND BEING GOOD. 85 

and at its long, loud, and solemn summons, the 
graves have given up their dead. Coming from 
their sepulchres, whether in the tombs of earth or 
the caves of ocean, the whole family of man is 
met for the first time, and met for the last — an 
innumerable multitude, above whose heads, in 
high and solitary majesty, rises the great white 
throne. The Son of Man, attended by all the 
holy angels, descends. Now the work begins. 
Some men of science suppose that the gold we 
dig out of its veins was originally diffused through 
the rock ; and that at some remote period, and 
by a power unknown to us, its atoms, separated 
from the earthy mass, and made to pass through 
it, were deposited in the veins where they now 
lie. By a power as mighty and mysterious, that, 
breaking up families which had slept and rose 
together, sunders for ever the tenderest relation- 
ships, the mingled mass of men is separated. 
Even as a shepherd, says our Lord, divideth the 
sheep from the goats, the crowd is divided — these 
move to the right, those to the left. And now, 
amid an awful silence, and in a voice distinctly 
heard at the farthest bounds of the mighty crowd, 
the Judge pronounces sentence ; and gives reasons 
for it. And what turns the balance in His hand ? 
Not the churches men belonged to ; nor the 
creeds they signed ; nor the doctrines they 
espoused, believed, defended, even died for. No, 
it turns upon works. Listen — He says, I was an 
hungered and ye gave me meat ; or, I was an 
hungered and ye gave me no meat. Visitors of 
prisons, clothers of the naked, feeders of the 
hungry, advocates of the wronged, husbands of 



86 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

widows, fathers of orphans, bearing names un- 
known in courts or camps, or in the seats of learn* 
ing and of science, but household words in the 
homes of sorrow — rising from graves you were 
borne to amid the griefs of the poor and needy, 
the crowns are for you. But for you, whether 
high or low, that wrapped yourselves up in narrow 
selfishness, the curse. No religion shall be owned 
then, but what now sheds blessings on misery, and 
lights up with rainbow hues the cloud of human 
sorrow. 

Do not suppose because I speak thus of works, 
that I substitute them for Christ ; or that I hold 
evangelical doctrine and sound views of divine 
truth, as is the fashion now, at a discount — as of 
small consequence. No — I say, Hold fast the form 
of sound words — Contend earnestly for the faith 
which was once delivered to the saints — Try the 
spirits whether they be of God. Right views of 
divine truth are of the highest importance ; for 
how can a vessel reach her harbor if her compass 
and charts be wrong ? Doctrines are the seeds 
of duties ; and it proves nothing to the contrary 
that some good men have held grave errors. They 
were good, and got to heaven, not in consequence 
of their errors, but in spite of them ; for as many 
men are worse, some men are better than their 
creeds. With gold, silver, precious stones, wood, 
hay, stubble, and a vast quantity of rubbish, they 
rest on the Rock ; and shall be saved so as by fire. 
Under the influences of the Spirit, endowed with 
the grace of God and love of Christ, the Tightness 
of their hearts overcomes the wrongness of their 
heads, and so they get to heaven : as I have seen 



DOING GOOD, AND BEING GOOD. 87 

a ship, under a power generated from water by 
nres that glowed within her hold, cross the roaring 
bar, and in the face of adverse wind and tide, 
plough her way safe into harbor. 

It has not been worldlings that have done most 
for the world. Your creatures of fashion and 
lovers of pleasure, who has met them where misery 
dwells ? If they repair to the haunts of crime, it 
is not to cure it. Nor is it those who talk lightly 
of doctrines, and profess to have neither taste nor 
time for religious questions, but men like Luther, 
that were strong in doctrine, and sound in faith, 
and ready to contend for it — men of ardent piety, 
men great in prayer, that have done most to mend 
the miseries of the world ; and, leaving their foot- 
prints on the sands of time, have been most blessed 
while they lived, and most missed when they died. 
It cannot be otherwise ; it is not in the nature of 
things that it should be otherwise. A belief in our 
lost state, in the sacrifice of a divine Redeemer, in 
th^ free gifts and grace of God, is intimately con- 
nected with the whole circle of Christian charities 
— is the centre from which they radiate. How can 
he in whose eyes all out of Christ are perishing, 
hanging over hell, dream away life in idle plea- 
sures? In the light of redemption, the outcast, 
the vile thing many would not touch, shines like a 
diamond on a dust heap. The condescension of 
the Son of God teaches me to stoop — not to the 
great, but to the ground, to pluck the foulest from 
the gutter. Feeling that I am forgiven much, I 
am ready to forgive ; and that I have gotten much, 
I am ready to give. God's costly gift to me, the 
free gift of His dear Son, both opens my hand, a^d 



88 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

warms my heart. Melted by His love and mercy, 
my icy selfishness gives way ; and like a lake 
loosened from its wintry chains, my bounty flows 
freely out to others. His generosity begets my 
own. As in His light I see light, in His love I feel 
love, It is the sight of Jesus stepping from His 
throne to lie in a manger, and to die on a cross, 
that most of all inclines me to forget myself — like 
Him, to deny myself, that I may live and labor 
for the good of others. Thus, as St. Paul says, the 
love of Christ constraineth us, because we thus 
judge, that if one died for all, then were all dead, 
and that He died for all, that they who live should 
not henceforth live unto themselves, but unto Him 
who died for them and rose again. 

True religion consists " in visiting the fatherless 
and widows in their affliction, and in keeping our- 
selves unspotted from the world? 

To visit the fatherless and widows in their 
affliction, from natural pity, is beautiful ; and may 
be called virtuous. We commend, and admire it. 
Still, though it cannot be true that there are 
people who are very religious, and yet not kind, 
people may be kind who are not religious. Visits 
and deeds of charity, to become religious, pious 
actions, besides springing from natural compassion, 
must be done in obedience to the will, and out 
of regard to the glory of God. The most common 
action, such as sweeping a floor or kindling a fire, 
when done because God has bidden it, and done 
well that He may be glorified, and religion not 
despised but honored, rises into piety ; and thus 
a humble servant cleaning shoes may be doing a 
thing as truly religious as a divine preaching from 






DOING GOOD, AND BEING GOOD. 89 

a pulpit, or an angel singing in the skies. Great 
and lofty deeds, on the other hand, that, though 
crowning their authors with honor, and filling the 
mouths of men, are done without any regard to 
God, have not an atom of religion. Therefore it 
has been said, that the virtues of an unconverted, 
ungodly man, are but splendid vices. They are 
without value in the judgment and sight of God. 

But to visit the fatherless and widows in their 
affliction, and keep one's garments unspotted from 
the world, under the influence of the holiest mo- 
tives, and with a view to the highest ends, though 
here called pure and undefiled religion before God 
and the Father, is not the sum-total of true reli- 
gion. These are but samples of the stock — the 
small segments of a large circle. Here, as else- 
where in Scripture, a part, or parts, is put for the 
whole ; and these two are selected for this among 
other reasons, that they are characteristic and most 
important ; not secondary but primary ; not acci- 
dental, but essential features of all true religion. 
To make this plainer, it is as if I described a living 
man by saying he breathes. But he does many 
things else. He sees and hears ; he walks and 
talks ; he thirsts and hungers — and a hundred 
things besides. Still, unless he breathes, he is not 
alive, but dead ; and dead is the religion which 
does not aim at these two things, personal purity 
and active charity ; in other words, doing good 
and being good. 

It is interesting to discover this truth enshrined 
within the name we apply to the Divine Being. 
God ! where got we that word, God ? It is not 
Hebrew ; nor Greek ; nor Latin. It was invented 



90 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

by our forefathers. Though rude and ignorant, 
and little acquainted with the arts and sciences, 
these half-savage men seem to have penetrated 
the mysteries of true religion, and caught its lovely 
spirit. Having dismissed Woden, and Thor, and 
Tuesco, their stern and wild and bloody gods, to 
embrace the Christian faith, they had to invent a 
name for the new object of their worship. Leaving 
Rome to borrow her forms and garments from 
heathen temples, and dress up the new faith in the 
cast-off clothes of the old, our ancestors neither 
chose Jove from the heathens, nor even Jehovah 
from the Jews ; nor, selecting the power, or know- 
ledge, or justice, or offices of the Divine Being, 
called Him the Almighty, or the Omniscient, or 
the Wise, or the Just, or the King. Regarding 
goodness as the most prominent, and to sinners as 
the most engaging and winning feature of His 
character, because He was good, and ever doing 
good, because He was in His nature perfectly holy, 
and to all His creatures infinitely kind, they called 
Him Good, abbreviating it into God. God and 
Good are certainly the self-same words ; and no- 
body, therefore, can be God's that is not good ; 
who does not seek to do good, as well as to be 
good. 

That any calling themselves Christians should 
believe or act otherwise, is shocking ; is a scandal 
to religion, and enough to make it stink, like a 
dead carcass, in the nostrils of sceptics and scoffers. 
Yet read this passage of a letter from a lady, who, 
touched with divine compassion for a class of 
Wretched outcasts, is appealing for help. " I sup- 
pose you are aware," she writes, " that the Chris* 



DOING GOOD, AND BEING GOOD. 01 

tianity 01 the (I shall not say what part of our 

country) is not aggressive ; they have a prejudice 
against working Christians as superficial ones ; 
and if we are therefore to attempt to strike at the 
root of the degradation of this class, we must ask 
help from your quarter." Alas for religion ! thus 
caricatured and misrepresented ; held up to the 
pity of good men, and the scorn of bad, as a lifeless 
system of effete doctrines and beliefs — deaf, dumb, 
and dead to the miseries of mankind ! That true 
religion ? No ; and no more like it than a dry 
skeleton, hung by the neck from the ceiling of an 
anatomical theatre, and grinning grimly down on 
the students' faces, is like yon man bending to the 
helm, and steering the life-boat ashore ; or yon 
man, sword in hand, fighting freedom's battle ; or 
yon man, with fire in his eye and pathos on his 
tongue, pleading amid plaudits or hisses the cause 
of the slave ; or yon good Samaritan stooping over 
a suffering brother, and binding up his gaping 
wounds ; or yon gentlewoman, whom we meet on 
foul, dank stair, concealing bread for the hungry 
beneath her cloak, or find on her knees at the bed 
of dying penitence, wiping off the clammy death- 
sweat, and smoothing a thorny pillow with the 
consolations of religion. 

Working Christians, superficial Christians ! Chris- 
tianity not aggressive ! Hear, O heavens ! and be 
astonished, O earth, that bore on thy dusty roads 
and Galilee's sandy shores, the prints of Jesus's 
feet ; and saw Him going about continually doing 
good ! From that deformity, that vile abortion 
let me turn your eyes away to the religion that 
illumines the pages of the Bible, and walked a 



92 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

world which crucified it, in the blessed form of 
our Divine Redeemer. 

Let us successively study the two features of 
pure and undefiled religion of St. James's picture. 

It appears in acts of charity. 

The widow and orphan are selected as the 
representatives of all human sorrow — their case 
needing our help most, and appealing loudest to 
our pity. It even touches us to see widowhood 
symbolized, there, where a tree, around which 
some beautiful creeper had wound its arms, spang- 
ling its robust form with flowers, lies on the 
ground, felled by the axe, its head prostrate in the 
dust ; while that tender plant, crushed and bleed- 
ing but still alive, clings with fond embraces to 
the dead. More touching still, when the mother 
bird has been struck down by the hawk, to look 
into the bush of golden gorse where her orphan 
brood sit pining in their cold nest, with no mother 
now to sing to them ; to feed them ; to cover them 
with her warm wings — left to die unless they 
move the pity of some sweet child or tender 
woman. 

Sin has not so utterly blotted out the beautiful 
lineaments of God, but that helplessness goes to 
our hearts ; this, as well as some other lovely 
flowers, continue to grow on the ruins of our fallen 
greatness. In busiest hours, when other intrusion 
would be resented, let any one enter in the garb 
of a widow, pale and sad, her eyes consumed with 
grief, she commands our attention and respect ; 
and on these streets where the hearse, parting the 
tide of business, comes with its nodding plumes, 
how touching it is to see two or three little boys 



DOING GOOD, AND BEING GOOD. 93 

following a father to the grave ; only more touch- 
ing, where poverty's one room holds the dead and 
living, to see an infant, attracted by the glitter, 
break away from kind friends to rattle the handles 
of a mother's coffin, and smile — pleased with the 
sound. I have seen that sight raise roughest 
hands to wipe tears from eyes unused to weep. 

Widow and orphan ! there is something sacred 
to our ears in these names. Over widows and 
orphans, as well as over weeping penitents, the 
Man of sorrows casts His shield. Their wrongs 
stirred His placid spirit to its deepest depths. He 
made no complaint of wrongs inflicted on Himself; 
He bore His own sufferings with divine meekness ; 
reviled, maligned, spit upon, crowned with thorns, 
nailed to the tree, He was dumb, nor opened His 
mouth — save to pray for His enemies. But He 
could not stand by and see the widow and orphan 
wronged. See how He steps up to yonder sleek 
and oily Pharisee praying on the widow's floor, 
that he might prey on the widow's substance, and 
strikes the mask from his face, saying, Woe to you, 
scribes and Pharisees ! hypocrites, for ye devour 
widows' houses, and for pretence make long 
prayers — ye serpents and generation of vipers, how 
can ye escape the damnation of hell ? Harlots 
can ; publicans can ; and thieves can ; the Ca- 
naanite and Samaritan can ; but robbers of the 
widow, how can ye ? There you have a commen- 
tary, by way of contrast, on the words — " Pure 
and undefiled religion before God and the Father 
is to visit the widow and fatherless in their afflic- 
tion." I do not believe in the Christianity that is 
not Christ-like : and I no more believe in a pro- 



94 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

fession of piety which is not associated with His 
pity than in a sun that sheds no light — in a fire 
that gives out no heat — in a rose that breathes no 
perfume ; they are mere painting : life-like, but 
dead ; clever, but cold. People may talk of such 
and such a man being godly ; but none are godly 
but the godlike. God is the " Judge of the widow, 
and the Father of the fatherless in his holy habi- 
tation ;" and he only is godlike who stands to 
widows in the room of the dead, and in whom 
orphans find both a father and a friend. 

True religion will express itself in personal, 
actual visits to widows and fatherless in their 
affliction. 

The circumstances of some are such, that they 
can bequeath at death what they could not afford 
to part with in their lifetime ; but there is no 
charity in leaving money, which we could now 
spare, to do good when we are dead. There is no 
self-denial — no cross-bearing in that. If we could 
carry the money along with us to another world, 
there might be virtue in leaving it behind ; but 
since we cannot, and have to leave the world as 
naked as we entered it, there is none. In fact, we 
are giving away what is not ours, — what ceases 
to be ours the moment of our death, — what our 
right to expires with life. Men are called by the 
apostle to mortify the flesh with its affections and 
lusts ; but by such mortifications, as they are called 
in Scotland, men do not mortify themselves, but 
their heirs — whom they cheat of their expecta- 
tions, to purchase a worthless name. The fortunes 
that rear such falsely splendid charities prove 
nothing in favor of the donors ; but rather the 



DOING GOOD, AND BEING GOOD, 9$ 

reverse. They only show how hard, and cold, and 
grasping, and avaricious these men and women 
were ; and that only death could compel the miser 
to relax his iron gripe of the widow's and orphan's 
bread. Whatsoever thy hand, therefore, findeth 
to do, do it with thy might ; for there is no work, 
nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, to be 
found in the grave whither thou goest. 

Now, in regard to the works of charity which 
religion requires, it is a pity that some, willing 
and anxious to do them, should miss the way of 
doing them well. They overlook the importance 
of giving a literal obedience to the words of St. 
James. They help, but they do not visit, person- 
ally visit the widows and fatherless in their afflic- 
tion. Such direct intercourse is of as great ad- 
vantage to those that give as to those that get ; 
softening, if not sanctifying, the hearts of both. 
Many do not seem to know how much charity 
resembles a delicate perfume that, by being 
poured from one vessel into another, loses the 
finest part of its aroma : and that to awaken gra- 
titude, it is not sufficient that the giver dole out 
his bounty through a middle party — by the hands 
of a hired, and it may be a hard, official. Let 
thirsty lips drink, not at the pipe, but where the 
grateful spring bubbles up fresh and cold from its 
native fountain. Wherever possible, therefore, 
distribute your charities with your own hand ; for 
there is much the same difference between sending 
your servant, or the agent of a society, and carry- 
ing the gifts yourselves, that there was between 
Gehazi with his master s staff, and the living pro- 
phet — the first may fill the hand, but, as when 



96 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

EHsha took the dead boy in his arms, it is the 
last that sets the heart a-beating. The kindly 
visit, the look, the tone, the starting tear of sym- 
pathy, the patient attention to the tale of suffer- 
ing, these make our gold or silver shine with 
double brightness, and impart a double sweetness 
to the bread we give. By this, without lowering 
yourself, you will lift up the poor ; and win them, 
perhaps, to God and goodness. A hand laid 
kindly on a child's head has been laid on a 
mother's heart ; and with hold of that, God help- 
ing you, you may save the perishing, and steer a 
whole household right to heaven. See, whether 
you eat or drink, or give meat and drink, you do 
all to the glory of God. 

Some think that they have no leisure or means 
to undertake such missions. Roman Catholics 
leave them to Sisters of Charity ; and we, in these 
Protestant lands, too much to hired agents, be- 
nevolent societies, and kind Christian women. 
Now, though not able personally to do all that we 
wish, we should do all that we can ; for I am sure 
that to be brought into personal contact with the 
poor is good both for us and them. How much is 
in our power " the day will reveal," when, called 
byname, some of once straitened circumstances and 
humble life shall step out from the crowd to hear 
the Judge say, " I was an hungered, and ye gave 
me meat : I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink : 
I was a stranger, and ye took me in : I was sick 
and in prison, and ye visited me ; for inasmuch as 
ye did it unto one of the least of these, ye did it 
unto me." Woe that day to them who find time 
to visit the great, and rich, and noble, but the 



DOING GOOD, AND LEING GOOD. 97 

poor never ; time to spend on luxurious banquets, 
and at theatres and balls, where delicate feet 
thread the gay dance, that never stood on the 
bare floors of poverty ; who regale with music 
ears that never listened to the wail of widows, or 
the moaning child that cried for bread and its 
mother has none to give it ; who stoop to worship 
wealth and rank, but never to raise the fallen, 
or bend, with words of comfort, over the bed of 
some poor, trembling, dying sinner ! " Go to now, 
ye rich men, weep and howl for your miseries 
that shall come upon you ; your gold and silver 
is cankered, the rust of them shall be a witness 
against you, and shall eat your flesh as it were 
fire." 

None are without time and means for such 
missions of mercy. To convince you, let me 
guide you to a scene where pure and undefiled 
religion stands before us in those who had little 
time to spare, and less money to spend. Enter 
this foul close with me ; bend your head to this 
low-browed door ; climb one dark stair, another, 
and still another. Now, you are in a cold, empty 
garret ; and there, beneath a patched and dusky 
skylight, lies a dying woman, a stranger in a 
strange land ; beside whose lowly pallet stands 
a pale, gentle, weeping child. Called to many a 
dying bed, I have seen death in all shapes and 
forms — some despairing ; some rejoicing ; many 
afraid to let go, and clinging to the earth ; others 
eager to be gone ; but that garret, where I knelt 
on the bare floor, seemed nearer than any to 
heaven. It seemed as if the angels that carried 
the beggar to Abraham's bosom were there 

7 



98 MAN AM iJ THE GOSPEL. 

waiting the last sinking breath to bear that 
saintly spirit to the skies. I saw not them ; but 
in the room where the orphan stood by her 
mother's corpse, seemingly without a friend in 
all the world, I met two God-sent angel-women. 
( They took the child to their own home. Bereft 
of one mother, in them she found two. They 
shared their scanty meals with her; and when 
the world was sleeping, plied their needles to 
earn her bread, to send her to school, to rear her 
in comely virtues, and shield her young head 
and heart in an evil world. What inspired this 
noble generosity ? They had come from the 
country, and were themselves poor ; but touched 
with the sight of much poverty greater than their 
own, they resolved that though they could not 
do much, they would do what they could. If 
many around them must perish, they could, at 
least, save one ; and so, each taking this sinking 
child by the hand, with the other free, these sisters 
buffeted the billows of adverse fortune, and, un- 
known to the world, but amid the applause of 
Jesus, and of angels that watched their progress 
from the skies, they brought the orphan in safety 
to the shore. There was pure and undefined re- 
ligion before God and the Father. 

May the Spirit of God inspire you to go and 
do likewise. Better walk in the steps of these 
lowly women than in the dazzling train of queens. 
Better have our names written on the hearts of 
widows and the fatherless, than on the pages of 
immortal history. Let crawling worms creep up- 
wards, and leave behind them the slime of their 
meanness, and base methods of reaching heights, 



DOING GOOD, AND BEING GOOD. 99 

from which death's rude hand shall cast them 
down into the grave. Be it ours rather, like 
God's heavenly creatures — the sun, the rain, the 
dew — to descend in blessings on those beneath 
us. How many fruits that sun ripens, how many 
cold things he warms, how many flowers he paints 
and opens, how many birds he sets a-singing be- 
fore he sinks in night ! I would be the rain-drop 
that, ere it returns to its parent sea, leaves a 
blessing at some lowly root. Nay, I would be 
the tiny dew-drop that, glistening in the morning 
sunbeams, refreshes the lips of some thirsty 
flower ere, exhaled by the sun, it ascends to 
heaven ! Do at least, some, and try to do much 
good ere you die. Seek to live loved, and to 
die lamented ; to be blessed in life, and to be 
missed at death. Live so that over your grave, 
however lowly, they may raise a tombstone, in- 
scribed with the words, " Blessed are the dead that 
die in the Lord ; they rest from their labors, and 
their works ^o follow them." 

L.ofC. 



«0O MAN ANa> THE GOSPEL. 



fmitg. 

" Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, To 
visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself 
unspotted from the world* 1 '-St. James i. 27. 

Distinguished from other jewels that have but 
one color, such as the fiery ruby, the milk-white 
pearl, the sapphire that borrows its tint from the 
sky, and the emerald from the sea, diamonds owe 
their beauty, brilliancy, and costly value to this, 
that they burn with many hues. Turned round, 
they sparkle with shifting colors, as the light 
flashes from their different faces. Still, though it 
appears in this variety of aspects, the diamond 
is one gem — "pure and undefiled," as a dew-drop 
distilled from the skies. And why should not 
Christians believe that the Church of the living 
God is also one, though in forms of worship, 
ecclesiastical constitutions, and somewhat even in 
doctrines, it presents various aspects — as St. Paul 
says, " There are differences of administration, but 
the same Lord." 

Like the costliest and most brilliant of gems, 
pure and undefiled religion before God and the 
Father presents itself under various aspects. 
Every one is beautiful, heavenly in its source — 
like the rays of the diamond caught from the 
sun ; yet each differs from another, as much as 



PURITY, 101 

do the properties which St. James assigns to divine 
wisdom. In this passage, " the wisdom that is from 
above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, easy 
to be entreated, full of mercy and good fruits, 
without partiality and without hypocrisy," we 
have something like a full description ; but in say- 
ing that " pure and undefiled religion is to visit 
the widow and fatherless in their affliction, and 
keep himself unspotted from the world," the 
apostle does not attempt to give a full-length por- 
trait. Out of many he mentions but two features ; 
but these, though highly characteristic, neither 
embrace all the duties of a Christian's life, nor 
exhaust the graces of his character. On the 
contrary, as the sun in its annual course passes 
through all the signs of the zodiac, pure and un- 
defiled religion, overlooking no commandment, 
but endeavoring to keep the entire law of God, 
walks the whole circle of Christian duties. Then, 
though some may be more prominent and more 
fully developed than others, the believer, " com- 
plete in Christ," is bedecked with every Christian 
grace. None are wanting ; all are there, like the 
precious stones of the high priest's breastplate, 
when, with a blood-filled bowl of purest gold, 
wearing his crown, and robed in white, he drew 
aside the veil ; and vanishing, entered into the 
Holy of Holies to commune alone with God. 
With this explanation, let us now study the second 
phase of true and undefiled religion. 

It requires us to keep ourselves unspotted from the 
world. 

An obstruction to our prayers, efforts, and pro- 
gress meets us here, in limine, — on the very 



102 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

threshold, which it is necessary to take out of 
the way. It lies in a feeling or fancy, that it is 
impossible to keep ourselves unspotted from the 
world, or even to come within sight of such a high 
attainment. To live in this world, and yet keep 
ourselves uncontaminated by its influence, pure 
in heart and life, seems as impossible as to be im- 
mersed in water, and yet keep dry ; or to walk a 
muddy road, and keep our garments clean ; or to 
take fire into our bosom, and not be burned. Well, 
if not more impossible than these, it can be done. 
It has been done — to some extent, at least, by help 
of Him who says, " My grace is sufficient for thee." 
To be plunged overhead in water, and yet keep 
dry, is not impossible. From rocking boat, or 
sandy shore, observe yon sea-fowl poised on white 
wing above the deep. Catching sight of her prey, 
see ! she descends like a flash of light, diving into 
the belly of the wave ; ere long she emerges, and 
bearing no touch of damp on her snowy plumage, 
rises into the air with feathers dry as the eagle's, 
that springs from the rock to soar in sunny skies. 
With feet webbed to swim, and broad sails to fly, 
and warm downs to preserve her heat, God has 
furnished this bird with an oil, that, coating her 
feathers, protects them from the touch of water. 
Nor is it impossible to crawl undefiled in mire. 
How often have I seen a creeping thing come 
wriggling out of the foulest mud, pure ; clean ; 
without a speck on its ringed and slimy form. 
And if God enables it, by a fluid secreted from its 
lubricious skin, to pass through defilement unde- 
filed, may not the Christian say, Shall He take 
such care of the poor worm that we tread upon, 



and not preserve from worse pollution those whom 
He has called to heaven, and redeemed with the 
Wood of His beloved Son ? 

" He who His Son, most dear and loved, 
Gave up for us to die, 
Shall He not all things freely give 
That goodness can supply ?" 

Grant that contact with a sinful world is like 
taking fire into our bosom ; — it does not follow that 
we shall certainly be burned. With the troubled 
king, his nobles, and the eager multitude that 
crowd round the fiery furnace, look at these three 
Hebrews ! Their naked feet are on glowing coals ! 
they breathe the burning flame ! and yet they 
come forth, no hair singed on beard or eyelash, nor 
smell of fire upon their clothes. 

We might meet this difficulty with such answer 
as the holy Leighton once gave to such another 
plea. Grieved with the unhappy state of his 
country, and the failure of his own well-meant 
attempts to reconcile his countrymen to prelacy, 
and stop the bloody cruelties of the time, he had 
retired into England to pass the clouded evening 
of his life in the house of a married sister. Having 
a family she had many domestic cares ; and cum- 
bered by them, she came far short of his close and 
devout walk with God. One day, addressing her 
brother, who had never married, she said, " It is 
easy for you to live a holy life ; it is otherwise 
with me ; with children and many household cares 
to occupy my thoughts and engross my attention, 
such a life as yours is to me impossible." With 
one blow of his gentle hand, Leighton demolished 
her plea. He engaged in no argument, nor set 



104 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

himself to prove her wrong ; but kindly turning to 
her, and quoting God's own word, he said, " Enoch 
walked with God, and begat sons and daughters.' 1 
Like her, many deem high degrees of grace beyond 
their reach ; therefore they aim low, and in con- 
sequence of that their attainments are low ; for 
few are so fortunate as the son of Kish, who, 
leaving home to seek his father's asses, found a 
crown on the way. We expect too little ; and to 
those who would dismiss this subject, abandoning 
all efforts after a purity which they deem as im- 
possible in this world, as to live in water, or 
breathe unhurt in fire, I have an answer, drawn 
also from the Word of God — an arrow taken from 
the quiver where the good Archbishop found his 
shaft. What saith the Lord ? He puts the case 
in your own form, and taking your very figures of 
fire and water, says, " When thou passest through 
the waters I will be with thee, and through the 
rivers they shall not overflow thee ; thou shalt 
walk through the fire, and not be burned, neither 
shall the flame kindle upon thee." 

To keep themselves unspotted from the world, 
God's people are carefully to avoid its vices. 
There is much vice in the world. Thousands 
make no profession of religion ; having broken 
loose from their anchors, and drifted into practical 
infidelity, they have no connection with any church, 
and seek none. Thousands besides are to be found 
within the Church who are dead — dead as the 
bodies that rot and moulder outside its walls ! 
They have the form of godliness, but are strangers 
to its power. It requires neither an intimate nor 
an extensive acquaintance with society, to dis 



PU- CV. 105 

cover that thousands are living in open profli- 
gacy. The vices of town and country indeed thrust 
themselves on our notice. Though not exactly 
defended, they are allowed and winked at — now 
excused on the plea that the young must sow 
their wild oats, as if it was no solemn truth that 
"what a man soweth that also shall he reap" — 
and now varnished over by giving respectable 
names to bad things. For example, seduction is 
called an affair of gallantry ; murder by duel, an 
affair of honor ; drunkenness, intemperance ; the 
debauchee who ruins his health, is a fast liver ; 
and he who cheats another, is a sharp man of 
business. Licentiousness, with brazen front and 
painted face, openly walks our streets — pushing 
virtue aside, and putting modesty to the blush ; 
while immoral and impure habits, though dis- 
creetly veiled, like an internal cancer, are destroy- 
ing the health, the fortunes, the happiness, the 
bodies and souls of thousands. With idiot look, 
drunkenness reels abroad in the face of day ; and 
events ever and anon are coming to light that 
show how many of both sexes, and of all ranks, 
are the secret slaves of this debasing vice. What 
falsehoods are told, and frauds largely practised 
in commerce, and in almost every kind of busi- 
ness ! and are not the poor often defrauded of 
their wages, helpless widows and orphans of their 
substance, to maintain a splendid extravagance — 
a false position in society, to blow and keep up 
a bubble that sooner or later bursts ? By how 
many is God's holy name profaned ; and how 
many more — like the drunken king, who, in car- 
ousal with his wives and concubines, made wine- 



t06 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

cups of the vessels of the sanctuary — profane the 
Sabbath by idle recreation, or feasting, or business, 
wasting its sacred hours on the most common 
purposes ! 

To warn religious people against such vices 
may seem unnecessary. I know that they will 
not practise them ; yet they may fall into what 
they will not practise. Fall ? alas ! how have the 
mighty fallen ! and were all our secrets revealed, 
how would it be seen that many who never fell, 
had been on the point of falling — tottering, when 
God's arm pulled them back, on the very edge 
of the precipice. What sore battles have been 
fought of which the world knows nothing ! Ex- 
amples of this, that " the righteous scarcely are 
saved ;" wounded, and bleeding, and all but over- 
come, their shield and helmet battered, their 
crown in danger and all but taken, they have 
come off conquerors only by help of Him who 
finds his opportunity in man's extremity, and saves 
at the very uttermost. 

It is not the practice of fathers to publish the 
faults of their children ; they are slow to believe 
them ; they are much more ready to conceal than 
to reveal their failings. And for what end were the 
sins of Noah, and Jacob, and St. Peter, and David, 
written in the Bible, and proclaimed in the ears 
of the world, but to warn us ? Their moral is 
this, Let him that thinketh he standeth, take heed 
lest he fall. Do any, astonished and indignant 
at the insinuation, resent it, saying, There is no 
fear of me ? Ah ! the day was when these good 
men would have said the same, asking with horror 
as great as yours, Is thy servant a dog, that he 



PwklTY. 107 

should do such a thing ? Yet they did it ; and, 
though with Noah's sons we would throw a mantle 
over their shame, the sound of their fall nas its 
echo in our Saviour's words, Watch ! Watch and 
pray, that ye enter not into temptation. 

We are to abstain from all worldly pursuits and 
pleasures that are of a doubtful character. 

The atmosphere is sometimes in such a peculiar 
state that the spectator, on coast or shore, looking 
abroad over the sea, cannot tell where the water 
ends and the sky begins ; and as if some magician 
had raised them out of their proper element, and 
turned their sails into wings, the ships seem floating 
in mid-air. But occasionally no line of separation 
is more difficult to draw than that which lies 
between what is right and what is wrong. Whether 
such and such a business or amusement, pursuit or 
pleasure, is wrong, and one, therefore, in which no 
Christian should engage, is a question that, so far 
as the thing itself is concerned, may be difficult to 
answer. But it is not difficult to answer, so far as 
you are concerned, if you doubt whether it is right. 
The apostolic rule is, Let every man be fully per- 
suaded in his own mind ; and unless you are so, 
then, "what is not of faith is sin" — sin at least to 
you. No man, I freely admit, has any more right 
to add to the duties than he has to add to the doc- 
trines of religion ; and he assumes an authority 
which belongs not to man, who pronounces anything 
to be positively sinful that is not clearly forbidden 
either by the letter or by the spirit of God's Word. 
These are the impious pretensions of the Church 
of Rome. Still, whatever others may feel them- 
selves at liberty to do, if you are not satisfied in 



108 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

your own mind and conscience that the thing is 
right, that the pursuit, or pleasure, or enjoyment, 
is lawful, it may be right for others, but it is wron 
for you to do it. Hence the Word of God says, 
He who doubteth is damned ! not that he is 
damned in the common sense of that terrible 
expression ; not that he is damned to hell ; but 
that he is convicted, condemned of wrong-doing, 
in doing that which he is not sure is right. 

In regard to the lawfulness of certain pursuits, 
pleasures, and amusements, it is impossible to lay 
down any fixed and general rule ; but we may 
confidently say, that whatever is found to unfit you 
for religious duties, or to interfere with the per- 
formance of them ; whatever dissipates your mind, 
or cools the fervor of your devotions ; whatever 
indisposes you to read your Bibles, or engage in 
prayer ; wherever the thought of a bleeding Saviour, 
or of a holy God, of the hour of death or of the day 
of judgment, falls like a cold shadow on your 
enjoyment ; the pleasures which you cannot thank 
God for, on which you cannot ask His blessing, 
whose recollections will haunt a dying bed, and 
plant sharp thorns in its uneasy pillow, — these are 
not for you. These eschew ; in these be not 
conformed to this world, but transformed in the 
renewing of your minds- — " Touch not, taste not, 
handle not." Never go where you cannot ask God 
to go with you ; never be found where you would 
not like death to find you ; never indulge in any 
pleasure which will not bear the morning's reflec- 
tion. Keep yourselves unspotted from the world ! 
nor from its spots only, but even from its suspicions. 
If the virtue of Caesar's wife, according to the 



PURITY. IO9 

Romans, was not even to be suspected, may I not 
say as much for the purity of the Lamb's Bride ? 
Remember that the character of a Christian is 
easily blemished ; that they who wear white robes 
need to take care where they walk ; that the 
smallest stain is visible on snow ; that polished 
steel takes rust from the slightest touch of damp. 
Keep your garments clean. Keep your conscience 
tender — tender as the eye that closes its lids 
against an atom of dust, or as that sensitive plant 
which I have seen shrink and shut its leaves, not 
merely at the rude touch of a finger, but at the 
breath of the mouth. Walk holily, and humbly, 
and circumspectly, lest your good should be evil 
spoken of, and you should give occasion to the 
enemies of the Lord to blaspheme. Mould your 
life on Christ's ; and, in the noble words of His 
apostle, " Whatsoever things are true, whatsoever 
things are honest, whatsoever things are just, 
whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are 
lovely, whatsoever things are of good report ; if 
there be any virtue, if there be any praise, think on 
these things." 

Religion does not require us to retire from the 
world. 

In the strict sense of the term, the world has 
nothing to defile us. It is a beautiful world — 
furnished with delights, and full of loveliness. 
Its fields carpeted with flowers ; its mountains 
wreathed with mists, or bathed in sunshine, or 
crowned with glistening snows ; its bright skies 
and green woods ringing with merry music ; its 
air loaded with the perfumes of ten thousand 
censers ; its seas and lakes spread out like great 



110 MAN AND 1HE GOSPEL. 

mirrors of living gold or silver ; its various ele- 
ments teeming with happy myriads, that, gathering 
what God gives, are the pensioners of His bounty 
— the world is full of God ; and converse with 
nature, so far from corrupting or defiling us, has a 
tendency to purify our thoughts and improve the 
mind. It was not of this world, in the ordinary 
sense of the term, that our Lord spake, when, see- 
ing Satan advance to the combat, He said, " The 
prince of this world cometh, and he hath nothing 
in me." Our earth owned not Satan, but Christ, 
as its Prince. It felt the pressure of His foot ; its 
waters sustained His form ; its midnight sky rang 
with the song of His nativity ; its air bore Him up 
as He rose to His Father ; in a golden cloud it 
provided the Conqueror with a chariot ; its waves 
and winds in their wildest uproar were obedient to 
His command ; at His bidding its water reddened 
into wine, its graves opened to give up their dead, 
its bread multiplied to feed His train ; and, as if 
the blow that struck Him had fallen heavy on its 
head, it trembled with horror as it received His 
blood. It never gave its iron to be nails for His 
blessed hands ; nor grew its thorns to pierce His 
brow. With high heaven,* the earth was a mourner 
at Christ's death ; and as if it were never to recover 
the shock of that day, when they hung its King 
and Creator on a tree, an old legend says, that the 
reason why the aspen leaf is ever trembling on its 
stalk is because the cross was made of an aspen 
tree. 

It is not the world, but the men of it, that are 
corrupt and corrupting. It is from these that 
religion calls us to keep ourselves unspotted 



PURITY. Ill 

Uncontaminated and unstained by their vices, we 
are to recoil from them, saying, My soul, come not 
thou into their secret ; with them, mine honor, 
be not thou united. In Scripture, the world often 
stands for the ungodly ; and the application of that 
term to them proves, alas ! that the ungodly form 
the great mass of mankind. God's enemies are the 
majority ; His people the minority ; and in some 
places a very small minority. Hence they are 
called a peculiar people — a description altogether 
inappropriate, were the mass of society holy and 
leavened with divine principles ; for in that case 
it would be the bad, not the good who were pecu- 
liar — distinguished from the multitude, like the 
man at the marriage feast who wore no wedding 
garment. An important, this is a serious and 
alarming consideration. It makes it all the more 
difficult to keep ourselves unspotted by prevailing 
ungodliness ; just as it is more difficult to make 
way in the streets against a rush and press and 
crowd of people, than against a few individuals 
advancing in a direction opposite to our own. 
Here number is power ; mass is power ; as in the 
ball that goes crashing through walls of oak, or 
grinds granite stones to powder, and owes as much 
to its mass as to its momentum — to its weight as 
to its velocity. 

Alarmed at this, and deeming it impossible, if 
exposed to it, to stem the flood of evil, and main- 
tain a successful resistance against such odds and 
power of numbers, some have fled from the world. 
There are good Christians now-a-days who shut 
themselves up as they would in a town where the 
plague was raging ; retreating before danger, they 



112 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

keep aloof from society — mingling little, or not 
at all with the world. Under the same fears, 
though allowing themselves to be carried to 
greater lengths, men in old times withdrew to the 
solitude of deserts, crocks, and forests ; and became 
hermits. Content wltH a bed of dry leaves for 
their couch, a bare caw tor their home, wild fruits 
for their food, the crystal spring for their simple 
drink, they renounced the society of man for that 
of the more innocent beasts, that they might 
escape the contaminations of an evil world. It 
were unjust not to admire the self-denying, brave 
devotion of these old anchorites ; yet they mistook 
the path of duty. While all, and especially young 
Christians — the raw recruits as they may be called 
— should carefully avoid the dangers of tempta- 
tion, still, I ask, If the leaven is withdrawn from 
the lump, how is the meal to be leavened ? If 
the candle is removed, how is the house to be 
lighted ? If Christian men and women are to 
retire from the world, — pity the world ! how is it 
ever to be converted ? It is well to retire at times, 
by prayer, and meditation, and communion with 
God, to get our wounds healed and our strength 
renewed for the warfare and the work. But 
though our Lord, for example, did occasionally 
withdraw Himself to lone shores, and desert places, 
and mountain-tops, His common walk was among 
the haunts of men. Now He is at a merry 
marriage feast, and now in the silent house of 
mourning — here He dines with a pharisee, there 
He accepts the hospitalities of a publican — His 
footprints are on the sands of busy shores and 
the dusty streets of Bethsaida, Capernaum, and 



PURITY. 113 

Jerusalem. He went about continually doing 
good. 

Followers of Jesus ! seek others' good as well 
as your own. We are to leaven the world, not to 
leave it ; not to run away, but to stay. " The field 
is the world/' said our Lord ; our ploughshare is 
to gleam in its furrows, and with flashing sickles 
we are to go in and reap it. Though He sent 
them out as sheep among wolves, to be hunted, 
and torn, and murdered, Jesus said to His disciples, 
as to us also, Go ye into all the world, and preach 
the gospel to every creature. The part of a brave 
sailor is not to take to the boat, pull ashore, and 
leave the shrieking or sleeping passengers to 
perish ; but to stick by the ship so long as there 
is a hope of saving her. And the part of a Chris- 
tian is not to desert his post in the world, but to 
stay by it — to keep the ship afloat, the world from 
perishing. They fall well, and are saved who fall 
at the post of duty. He who gave Paul the lives 
of all on board, has given Christ the souls of all 
His people ; and though the world should go down 
like a foundering ship, they perish not with it- 
sinking, it does not, whirlpool-like, suck them 
down into destruction. Those that Thou hast 
given me, says Jesus, I have kept — they shall 
never perish — no man shall pluck them out of 
my Father's hand. 

Look at these two illustrations of the differ- 
ence between leaving the tuorld, and remaining to 
leaven it. 

In a beautiful town of Switzerland, there is a 
large convent belonging to an order of Dominican 

nuns. Ill-guided, but, let us hope in charity, 

& 



114 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

seeking the religion that, pure and undefiled, 
keeps itself unspotted, these timid women have 
fled from the world to devote themselves to what 
is called a religiour. life, and become candidates 
for the highest honors of their Church. Who 
visits the scene, and — having read of such con- 
vents as Le Vive Sepolte by the Tarpeian rock, 
where the living interred occupy themselves by 
incessant mortification, fast continually, never 
read, direct their constant meditation to death 
and corruption, never change their dresses, and 
their under garments only twice in the year, 
never see their connections, nor yet hear their 
voices, nor even know anything about them, are 
not permitted to see the sacrament, but have it 
administered to them through a hole in the wall, 
through which, also, they make their confession 
and receive absolution — has associated such a 
life with severe austerities, will be agreeably dis- 
appointed. Beautiful order, neatness, and a fine 
feminine taste, reign within the convent walls. 
The attire of the inmates, who occupy them- 
selves to such an extent with works of charity as 
to ward off ennui, is no doubt odd and funereal- 
like, and not calculated to gratify female vanity. 
Still, their appearance betokens no rigid fasts, 
or painful mortifications. The apartments are 
small, but most tastefully adorned. The walls 
are hung with needlework and pictures ; every 
couch is white as the snows of the neighboring 
Alps ; and at our visit, the summer breeze, as it 
whispered among the leaves of the vines, and 
stole in at the open window, filled the room with 
a sweet scent of beautiful flowers that grew on 



PURITY. 115 

the window-sill. It was a sunny scene, where 
one could dream away life, remote from the 
battles and turmoil of the world, but remote also 
from its duties : and I could not but look on 
these fair devotees as deserters who, selfishly 
consulting their own safety, and distrusting the 
grace of God, had abandoned the post of duty. 
They were not keeping themselves unspotted from 
the world, but had fled from it. 

Not in that, but in this other scene we meet 
the pure and undefiled religion which, while in 
the world, keeps itself unspotted. Go with me 
on a winter's night into one of the worst quarters 
of London. Threading streets that here blaze 
with the gas and glare of lowest drinking shops, 
and now dark and dismal, are the walk of prosti- 
tutes, and the haunts of robbers, we reach a large, 
dingy building. Ascending by a trap-stair to a 
spacious loft, we find ourselves in the strangest 
scene of human woe and wickedness you could 
look on. It is a Night Refuge for houseless 
women — for the friendless, those who, thrown out 
like faded flowers to be trodden on in the streets, 
had sunk into dark depths of loathsomeness and 
degradation. The hour is late, and though a few 
lingered by the stove, the most, glad to stretch 
their weary limbs, had lain down on the pallets 
that, spread on the floor, were ranged along the 
bare walls. Every head was raised, and all eyes 
turned on us as we entered. And what looks 
they had ! Here vice stared with her unblushing 
front. Some had the look of fiends ; treachery, 
brutal cruelty, falsehood, wrongs, and neglect, 
having turned whatever kindliness had once been 



\i6 MAN AND THE vjOSHSL. 

in the heart into gall and wormwood ; and now 
hatred both of God and man shot forth in their 
scowling looks. Others wore an expression of 
most touching sadness : one reclined with her 
back to the naked wall, gasping for breath, and 
dying of a raking cough ; while another sat 
upright in a corner, a living form of death. The 
tide of night had floated in this wrack for the 
sake of a meal, a fire, the humblest of couches, 
and a roof to cover heads that otherwise had lain 
on the cold flags, or been pillowed on a door- 
step. 

In the centre of this scene, just risen from her 
knees, beside a table where the Bible still lay 
open, from whose pages, accompanied by prayer, 
she had been reading words of hope and peace 
to these wretched outcasts, stood a woman — I 
might say an angel. Leaving father, mother, 
brother, sister, pure associations, and a sweet 
home, to breathe this foul atmosphere, and take 
those forlorn creatures to her arms, she had be- 
come mother, nurse, physician, comforter, saviour, 
guardian of those from whom all others shrunk 
as the filth and offscourings of th earth. When 
Carey and his associates contemplated a mission 
to the heathen, he, on condition that they would 
raise the means at home, volunteered to go abroad, 
boldly saying, " If you will hold the rope, I will 
go down into the pit." Never had we seen this 
graphic speech so nobly illustrated. I stood 
rebuked in the presence of this noble woman. 
Pure, virtuous, and delicate, what a sacrifice had 
she made for Christ and perishing souls ! It was 
one for angels to sing, and for Christ Himself to 






PURITY. 117 

reward with, Sfoier of mine, well done. More 
than any sight I ever saw, it reminded me of 
Him who left His Father's bosom, and the 
honors paid by angels, to become the associate, 
and be called the Friend of sinners, to save us 
by His blood, and teach us by His example how 
to labor for the world's good, and keep ourselves 
unspotted from its evil. 



!I8 MAN AND TUB GOSPEL. 



ijfrrftts. 



" My brethren, have not the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ, the 
Lord of glory, with respect of persons. For if there come unto your 
assembly a man with a gold ring, in goodly apparel, and there come 
in also a poor man in vile raiment ; and ye have respect to him that 
weareth the gay clothing, and say unto him, Sit thou here in a* good 
place; and say to the poor, Stand thou there, or sit here under my 
footstool: are ye not then partial in yourselves, and are become 
judges of evil thoughts? Hearken, my beloved brethren, Hath not 
God chosen the poor of this world rich in faith, and heirs of the king- 
dom which he hath promised to them that love him?" — St. James 
ii. 1-5. 

The same cause produces different effects under 
different circumstances. Look, for example, at 
volcanic action. As the higher we rise in the air, 
though we approach the sun, it grows the colder ; 
the deeper we descend into the bowels of the 
earth it grows the hotter, by something like a 
degree for each hundred feet ; every fathom down 
being, in fact, six feet nearer the fire — nearer to 
that immense, central mass of burning matter, 
around which this green earth, where we build our 
houses and reap our harvests, lies like the shell of 
an egg around its contents ; and which, once it 
burst out, will remove the doubts of sceptics, and 
supply fire enough for the flames of the last day. To 
this imprisoned power, struggling to escape, we 
probably owe the earthquakes that make the frame 



RICHES. 110 

of nature tremble, as well as those volcanic phe- 
nomena, which, though all arising from the same 
cause, present so many different appearances : as 
tn Iceland, where, preceded by a noise like thunder 
rolling underground, a vast column of hot water is 
suddenly projected to a great height into the air, 
amid discharges like artillery and clouds of snowy 
vapor ; or as in one of the beautiful islands of the 
Pacific, where the mud of the soil is constantly 
boiling over the thin crust that there separates the 
surface of the ground from the fires below ; or, as 
in the lofty ranges of the Andes, where flames and 
smoke are ever rising from what have been called 
the chimneys of the world — the tops of mountains 
that are wrapped in a mantle of perpetual snow. 

As it is with such physical forces, so it is with 
the passions that rage and burn in human breasts ; 
their expression varies with circumstances. It is 
affected by the period and condition of life. It is 
modified by the influence of the gospel and of 
civilization, by the customs and the laws of differ- 
ent countries — human passions no more than the 
earth's fiery contents exploding everywhere alike. 
The detracting word dropped of one who has 
injured you, the abuse bandied between two scold- 
ing women, the curse one rough and angry man 
hurls at another's head, the sudden blow dealt by 
a boy in the playground on the cheek of his com- 
panion, are ebullitions of the same passion that 
used to place two men on the dewy ground, amid 
some peaceful, rural scene, to aim their bullets at 
each other's hearts ; and which still, in the south 
of Europe, steals with noiseless foot and coward 
steps on an unsuspecting enemy to plant the 



T20 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

poignard in his bosom, and wipe the bloody steel 
with a grim smile of satisfied revenge. 

Like revenge, the love of money, the thirst for 
gold, the inordinate desire for wealth, against 
which God's Word raises some of its most awful 
warnings, presents itself under a variety of aspects. 
Proteus-like, it assumes sometimes one form, some- 
times another ; but in whatever form it appears a 
base, soul-destroying passion, it is accursed of 
God ; insidious as it is fatal ; one on which our 
Lord pronounces this decisive sentence, " Ye can- 
not serve God and Mammon." In such a country 
as ours, which owes its greatness to its commerce, 
whose ships plough the waters of every sea, whose 
manufactures clothe the natives of every land, 
where millions rise every morning to the sound of 
the factory-bell, and trade is carried on to an ex- 
tent, and with an energy unexampled in the history 
of the world, we especially need to guard against 
the worship of money, the inordinate desire for its 
possession, giving to mere wealth the honor that 
belongs to moral worth. For this end, let us 
!ook at the way in which an undue regard to 
wealth appeared, according to the apostle St. 
James, among the first Christians. 

The church is met for worship ; or rather per- 
haps to sit in judgment on a dispute between 
two contending parties, who, according to the 
directions of the apostles, have referred their 
difference to the decision of the church rather 
than of heathen judges. The court is constituted ; 
the case is called ; the clients enter. One is 
sumptuously attired ; good living in his shining 
face, and wealth upon his back ; the gold ring 



RICHES. 12! 

that glitters on his white, soft hand bespeaking 
his condition ; he advances with pomp and dignity. 
But what is this other object that the same door 
admits ? — a moving heap of rags. Hunger in his 
haggard cheek, sorrow in his sunken eye, his 
whole mien and bearing betraying a crushed and 
broken spirit ; it is a poor man in vile raiment, 
with a starving wife and children perhaps at home. 
The law of God, in directing judges how to act 
in such circumstances, utters no uncertain sound. 
Its noble words are, " Ye shall not respect persons 
in judgment : ye shall hear the small as well as 
the great ; ye shall not be afraid of the face of 
man." That in one place ; this in another : " Ye 
shall do no unrighteousness in judgment ; thou 
shalt not respect the person of the poor, nor 
honor the person of the mighty ; in righteousness 
shalt thou judge thy neighbor." Thus spake God ; 
and in the case put by St. James, a right-minded 
judge would lean to neither side, but with steady 
hand hold the balance even — neither allowing 
pity for the poor man on the one hand, nor 
respect for wealth on the other ; to sway his 
decision, to turn the scales. These noble and 
divine instructions, which contrast so strikingly 
with the old practice of Scotland, where it used to 
be said, " Show me the man, and I will tell you 
the law," and deserve to be written in bright 
letters of gold on the walls of every court, were 
admirably embodied in the figure which the old 
Egyptians gave to justice. She was symbolized 
by a human form without hands — to indicate that 
judges should accept no bribe ; and not without 
hands only, but sightless — to indicate that the 



\11 MAN AND THE GOSPEL* 

judge is to know neither father nor mother, ri6i 
wife nor child, nor brother nor sister, nor slave nor 
sovereign, nor friend nor foe, when he occupies 
the seat of justice. He is not to see the client, 
but only to hear the cause ; and, uninfluenced 
either by fear or favor, to decide that upon its merits. 
But in the assembly of which St. James gives 
us a picture, the hideous form of Mammon sits 
enthroned above Christ and the law of God. 
Indicating their bias, and inflating the pride of 
wealth, neither, on the one hand, teaching the 
proud man that his lofty airs go for nothing there, 
and that their eyes are not to be dazzled by the 
flash of his ring ; nor, on the other hand, telling 
the poor client to hold up his head like a man, 
and be assured that his vile raiment will not tempt 
them by an unjust judgment to defile the purity 
of their ermine, they invite the first to a place of 
honor, and say to the other, Stand back ! stand 
there ! or if you will sit, sit on the floor under my 
feet ! — feet, some one might whisper, that shall 
trample on you because you happen not to be 
rich, but poor. Betraying by this conduct an 
undue regard to wealth, let them be beacons to 
warn us off a shore where many have made sad 
and unlooked-for shipwreck. Christ was poor ; 
and let us not forget that poverty is the lot of 
many of the excellent ones of the earth ; that if 
it comes not through our vices, it is the cup our 
Father has mingled for us ; and that many of 
those on whom wealth looks down in haughty 
contempt, God has chosen to be rich in faith, and 
heirs of the kingdom which He hath promised to 
them that love Him. 



RICHES. 153 

Years ago, a trial took place in the highest judi- 
cial court of our country, which shook this kingdom 
to its centre, and drew on it the eyes of the world. 
A queen was on her trial. On that occasion, a 
great man, with the passions and power of the 
Crown arrayed against him, stood up boldly in 
her defence ; and, confronting royalty as a rock 
confronts the surging sea, flung back the threats 
with which they attempted to deter him from his 
duty, saying, with defiant air and attitude, " An 
advocate is to know no person on earth but his 
client. " But a judge is not even to know the 
clients. He is to know nothing but the cause. 
It appears, however, that such judges did not 
preside in the court that incurred the censure of St. 
James: " My brethren," he says, "have not the 
faith of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Lord of glory, 
with respect of persons. For if there come unto 
your assembly a man with a gold ring, in goodly 
apparel, and there come in also a poor man in 
vile raiment ; and ye have respect to him that 
weareth the gay clothing, and say unto him, Sit 
thou here in a good place ; and say to the poor, 
Stand thou there, or sit here under my footstool ; 
are ye not then partial in yourselves ?" In these 
words the apostle charges them with having re- 
spect of persons. Nor was it, strictly speaking, 
respect for persons these first Christians showed ; 
it was something worse, meaner, baser still — it 
was respect merely for dress, attire, gay clothing, 
a gold ring. It was not moral worth that pro- 
cured one of them a distinction which was denied 
to the other — it was but the wealth of which the 
raiment and the ring were tokens. 



t24 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

Here, then, in the very house of God, these 
Christians bowed the knee to Mammon ; and, like 
the spaniel that licks the hand that beats it, they 
crouched to the power that smote, persecuted, and 
oppressed them. How mean that was ! To what 
baseness will the love of money make men stoop ! 
The scene fires the apostle's just indignation. It 
bursts out in these exclamations : " Ye have 
despised the poor ! Do not rich men oppress 
you ? Do not they blaspheme that worthy name 
by which ye are called ?" This injustice, viler 
than the poor man's raiment — this cringing, crouch- 
ing, creeping baseness, shows how the love of 
money, the inordinate regard for wealth, demeans 
men, demoralizes them ; and what need we, in 
this busy, trading commercial country, have to 
guard against a passion that has enslaved the 
sovereign on the throne ; corrupted the judge on 
the bench ; seduced the priest at the altar ; and 
which, almost more than any other passion, is so 
incompatible with piety, that the apostle St. John 
says, " If any man love the world, the love of the 
Father is not in him." 

This passion appears among us in the inordinate 
desire after riches. 

What a scene of bustle, and hurry, and trouble, 
and toil we live in ! It is not for bread to eat, 
and raiment to put on — nature's wants are few 
and simple. It does not accord with the unam- 
bitious prayer of our Divine Teacher, Give us day 
by day our daily bread. As on the turf, where, 
abreast each other, with foaming bits, and panting 
sides, and distended nostrils, high-mettled horses 
strive which shall first reach the winning-post, so 



RICHES. 125 

is that race for riches in which we see the law of 
God, the cross of Christ, the interests of the soul, 
the well-being of the body as well as of the soul, 
trampled under foot by the eager competitors. 
Were the crown of heaven, all sparkling with the 
gems of redemption, hung aloft on the goal, and 
were there but one crown to a crowd of candi- 
dates, people could not be more earnest, eager, 
bent upon their object. How they run, and sweat 
and toil, to the whip and spur of this master- 
passion ! — not seldom meeting the fate of the poor 
race-horse, that, distancing his fellows, and reach- 
ing by wide and rapid strides the goal, drops dead 
in the moment of triumph. How many embitter, 
and how many shorten their life in pursuit of a 
wealth they live not to enjoy — leaving people, as 
they carry the rich man with parade and costly 
pomp to his grave, to moralize on his folly, and 
exclaim, Vanity, vanity, all is vanity ! 

This desire, which is so apt to grow into an in 
controllable passion, has no warrant in Scripture. 
The Scriptures teach us to pray, and pray ear- 
nestly, to be saved, good, wise, holy, kind, lovers 
of God and man ; but nowhere to be rich — and 
a man should never try to be what he cannot 
pray to be. Indeed, we are taught to pray, not 
for, but against riches. And so men pray ; but 
how often, like one who rows a boat, do they look 
one way and pull another? It is not uncommon 
for people to say that ministers should not be 
rich ; and some take good care, as far as they are 
concerned, that they shall not — muzzling the ox 
that treadeth out the corn. When pleading the 
cause of my poorer brethren, not seeking riches 



126 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

for them, but only a competency, and that those 
that serve at the altar should live by the altar, 
the response I met from one who " fared sump- 
tuously every day," was — Oh, ministers should not 
be rich ; it is not good for them. But was Agur's 
prayer intended only for the lips of ministers ? 
On the contrary, I believe that riches were less 
dangerous in their hands than in those of most 
other men. Brought more than others in contact 
with the poor and needy, they would be more 
likely to make a generous, and hedged round by 
the sacredness of their office, they would be less 
likely than many to make a vicious use of their 
wealth. At any rate, other men have as much 
need as the ministers of religion to pray with 
Agur, " Give me neither poverty nor riches." 

But some say, the tide of fortune flows in on us 
— the money comes unprayed for, and unsought. 
If so, if it flows in on you, then let it flow out from 
you in as full a stream. Be like yonder lake, that, 
refusing to be surcharged with water when thun- 
ders are pealing and lightnings are flashing among 
the dark hills, and a thousand foaming torrents 
leaping down their sides, pour a flood into its 
bosom, ere long pours forth a corresponding flood 
at its exit ; and, giving to the earth as it gets from 
heaven, swells the river, that, rising on its banks 
and rushing from the glen, winds its bright and 
blessed way onward to the sea. 

The desire for riches, while unscriptural, is, in 
many instances, in the highest degree irrational. 
Hoarding is a strange insanity. I discover divine 
wisdom in the hoarding habits of some animals ; 
in the honey the bee stores up in waxen cells, and 



RICHES. 127 

in the wealth of nuts the brisk and merry squirrel 
packs up in the hollow tree. Their supply of food 
is uncertain ; and, with more than suffices for pre- 
sent wants, God teaches them through their in- 
stincts not to waste the bounties of nature, but lay 
them up for a time of need. And though it seems 
foolish in the dog who has a kind master, and gets 
his regular meals, yet it rather amuses us than 
otherwise to see him, under the influence of in- 
stincts which domestication has dulled rather than 
destroyed, steal away into the garden, and, cau- 
tiously looking round to see that he is unnoticed, 
scrape up the soil with his paws to bury a bone 
for future use. This hoarding is the natural habit 
of the animal — the true instinct of his wild life — 
of value to the dog. But for a man with ample 
means, possessing already more than he can require 
or use, to hoard up wealth — clothes when the poor 
are naked, food when the poor are hungry, money 
when others have not wherewithal to buy a meal, 
and children, to use the touching words of Scrip- 
ture, are crying for bread, and their mothers have 
none to give them, is, to say nothing of its inhu- 
manity, a species of madness. Cut bono ? What 
is gained by it ? Nothing. Nothing can properly 
be called a man's own but what he can use. There 
is no profit of it under the sun. God has no re- 
spect for persons ; in His eyes wealth is not worth ; 
and you may know how little God thinks of money 
by observing on what bad and contemptible char- 
acters He often bestows it. Forfeiting man's re- 
spect as well as His, the greedy, griping, grasping 
lose the shadow as well as the substance ; despised 
by the great and d.etested by the humble, they 



128 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

live unloved, and die unmourned. Yet to that 
miserable end the craving for wealth brings us, 
unless we are kept by the grace of God. There 
is a witchery about money-making, as well as 
gambling, against which those who make it 
honestly, and use it well, and save only what is 
wise and prudent, cannot be too much on their 
guard. He who is saving money should look well 
to the saving of his soul. He is mounted on a 
steed which has often run away with its rider. He 
is sailing on the rim of a whirlpool which is apt to 
draw him in ; and where, though the water seems 
smooth as oil, and placid as a lake, he may detect 
this fatal tendency — ay, and catch the distant roar 
of its devouring vortex. He is working at a 
machine which, without constant care, will draw in 
his finger ; and after that his hand ; and then his 
arm ; till by and by spectators stand aghast to see 
his body whirled round, a bloody, mangled, lifeless 
mass. Make wise and prudent provision for the 
future ; yet let it be your daily and most earnest 
prayer that God would keep you from forgetting 
the great future of eternity, or allowing carefulness 
for this world to grow into carelessness of the next 
— into that love of money which is the ruin of so 
many souls, and which the word of God declares to 
be the " root of all evil." 

This undue regard for wealth may be seen in the 
conduct of parents. 

The foremost thing with them should be the 
spiritual and eternal interests of their children — 
otherwise the authors shall prove the curse of their 
being. Carry them in the arms of prayer to 
Christ. Seek not that they may be great, but 



RICHES. 129 

good. Care not though their names are not in the 
temple of fame, if they are found in the Book of 
Life. Teach them to strive not so much for the 
honors of the school, or of their profession, as for 
the " honors that come from God only." Train 
the branches upward ; guide their aspirations 
heavenward ; point them to the skies. Let theif 
ambition rise above an easy or prosperous life, to 
a useful one. Teach them to spurn the maxims of 
the world, and live for others — loving and loved. 
What though they have a humble home on earth 
if they have a mansion above the stars ; though 
they are poor in this world's goods if they are rich 
in faith ; though their road below be rough and 
flinty, if it conduct them to the cross of Calvary, 
and by that to the gate of heaven and the bosom 
of God. 

Yet, alas ! how often are children sacrificed to 
wealth ! Crimes that were done at the altars of 
Moloch are repeated at the shrines of Mammon. 
To come down from generalities to matters of 
actual and every-day life, see in these, among 
many other things, the undue regard paid to 
wealth, and the gross neglect of higher interests. 

Parents eagerly seek rich marriages for their 
daughters. 

Wealth is weighed against worth ; and in the 
estimation of many outweighs it. The happiness 
of children is cruelly sacrificed, or never consulted 
in these wretched money-matches. The only 
plain rule which Scripture lays down in regard to 
marriage is trodden in the dust. Not forbidding 
the bans where there are differences of rank, or 
fortune, or race, or color; the apostle says, "Be 

9 



130 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

not unequally yoked together with unbelievers/ 
Yet see the court paid to a man who has neither 
brains in his head, nor generosity in his heart, nor 
piety in his soul, but only money in his purse — 
the money, not the man, the true attraction. 
With hand and heart cruelly divorced, many a 
poor girl is sacrificed at the marriage altar. She 
wears chains of slavery in the gold she wears ! Not 
less than yon dark negress who, rudely handled, 
stands blushing, or with swimming eyes fixed on 
her lover, weeps on the auction-block, this fair 
creature is sold for gold ; not by a master but by 
her parents ; not by heathens but by Christians ; 
and in a land, too, where the soil boasts such 
liberty, that the bondsman who touches it is free. 
Forced, perhaps, to part with the true gem of a 
kind, true, attached, and loving heart for these 
dead things, the diamonds that, flashing on her at- 
tire, blind others' eyes to the desolation within her 
soul, are the marks of her bondage. Compared 
with parents that sacrifice their children for money, 
a title, rank, estates, how noble the Hebrew chief ! 
Jephthah sacrificed his daughter, but not for gold. 
He offered her up on the sacred altar of his country. 
Patriotism dictated, and piety demanded the sacri- 
fice ; he said, I have opened my mouth unto the 
Lord, and I cannot go back. Still, though 
animated by the purest motives, and sustained by 
the highest principles, it was in the bitterness of 
his heart, he stood over the gentle sufferer, meekly 
bending her head to the stroke, to cry, Alas, alas, 
my daughter ! But the bitterness of that hour is 
not to be compared with the self-reproach and 
wretchedness of him who, sacrificing his child fqr 



RICHES. 131 

money, has broken her heart ; giving her to some 
ungodly man, has ruined her soul ; and is left to 
cry in unavailing regrets, Alas, alas, my daughter ! 

The undue regard of wealth appears in the 
lucrative positions parents seek for their sons. 

How and where, in what profession, business, 
town, country, their children will make most 
money, and find the surest, shortest road to for- 
tune, is the only consideration with many — and 
the chief one with some whose Christian character 
might have warranted us to say, " We hope better 
things of you." In this matter how may we ask 
of many unquestionably devout and pious parents, 
What do ye more than others ? How rare is it, 
for instance, to find Christians in affluent circum- 
stances educating a son for the ministry ; like 
Samuel's mother, dedicating a child to the service 
and house of God ! Ever and anon the churches 
lift up a loud and urgent cry for more volunteers 
to storm the breaches God's providence is making 
in the walls of Heathendom, for more mission- 
aries to carry the cross to pagan lands, for more 
candidates to supply the lack of service at home ; 
and all this, while other professions are over- 
stocked, and Christian parents are sending off 
their sons by thousands every year to seek wealth 
beyond the wide seas, in inhospitable climes, and 
on heathen shores. Why is this so ? It cannot 
be because the office of the ministry is not re- 
spectable. In influence and dignity, the pulpit 
yields to no place under the sun. Others hold 
their commission from the Sovereign, but the 
minister of the gospel holds his from the King 
of kings and Lord of lords ; and fills an office 



132 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

of such dignity as in the eyes even of the world 
to impart a measure of respectability to its holder, 
though he may have no claim otherwise to re- 
spect. But it is not lucrative. There is the key 
to the mystery. It is usually a poor office ; and 
pity 'tis 'tis poor ! and thus, though Christ was 
poor, and made Himself poor to make us rich, 
those for whom He gave His blood, refuse Him 
their sons. Let Christians blush to read the story 
of the rude clansman who, after seeing six stal- 
wart sons fall defending his chief, called for his 
seventh and last boy, his Benjamin, to fight and 
die with him in the noble but hopeless struggle. 
In the profession of the ministry, it is true 
men may save souls ; but in others, they will 
save money. In this they may win jewels for 
Christ's crown, but in these they may hope to 
array wife and daughters in the glittering pride of 
jewellery. In training a son for this office, they 
will place him in circumstances the most favor- 
able to virtue and piety ; still, though removed 
far from a father's care, and a mother's prayers, 
and the means of grace, in secular occupations, in 
lands where he hears no Sabbath-bells, or amid 
the temptations of great cities, where no one cares 
for his soul, he may make a fortune — and so 
money carries it over the highest and holiest con- 
siderations. The youth is launched forth on the 
world. The helm is in the grasp of a feeble hand. 
The storm of temptation comes. His father's 
parting prayer, his mother's last tender look, and 
the holy recollections of home, still fresh in his 
mind, he makes an effort to hold on in his virtuous 
career ; but by and by he gives up the unequal 



RICHES. 133 

struggle, and with " youth at the prow and plea- 
sure at the helm," drives on to ruin — becomes a 
total wreck. What a fate for a parent to weep ! 
What a sorrow for his life ! As he recalls the 
image of the boy whom he sacrificed to the love 
of gold, how will remorse wring from his heart 
more than the bitterness of David's cry, O my son 
Absalom ! my son, my son Absalom ! would God 
I had died for thee, O Absalom, my son, my son ! 

The undue regard to wealth appears in the 
desire of parents to bequeath riches to their children. 

If parents, without any respect to the spiritual, 
looked only to the temporal interests of their 
children, they would not be so anxious to leave 
them wealth. Few greater misfortunes could befall 
a youth than to be left a fortune. How would 
that event increase his danger ; and, filling a 
father's heart with new fears, cast a dark shadow 
over the hopes he had begun to cherish of his 
son ! The world presents temptations enough to 
youth without that. It needs a steady foot and 
a cool head to stand on the edge of a dizzy cliff ; 
a steadier hand than most young men possess to 
carry a full cup. With few, or almost no excep- 
tions, they have a roaring sea of temptations to 
swim through ; and to how many has their wealth 
proved a bag of gold, which a foolish parent's 
hand has tied round the neck of the unhappy 
youth ? We have watched their course, and seen 
their heads, after a brief struggle, go down be- 
neath the wave ; while those who had nothing 
but their own exertions and God's blessing to 
depend on, finding in that emptiness a life-buoy, 
have struck out manfully for the land, and stood 



134 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

alive on the shore of a sea thickly strewn with 
the drowned bodies of others, to thank God that 
they had had a hard battle to fight, and the yoke 
to bear in their youth. Look around and see 
who those are that stand on the heights of their 
profession, or business ! With few exceptions, 
they are those whom riches did not tempt to be 
idle ; who wrought under the spur of a sharp 
necessity ; whose purses were lighter than their 
hearts ; who, receiving little else from a father 
but a good education and an honorable name, 
had no portion of goods to spend " on harlots 
and riotous living" — hand over hand, by their 
own manful exertions, they have climbed to the 
positions of honor, affluence, or usefulness they 
fill. 

Now, look on the other hand to the common — 
not universal, but common fate of those for whom 
anxious parents have laid up stores of wealth ! In 
how many instances has it proved their ruin ; 
Well and truly does the Psalmist say, " He heap- 
eth up riches and knoweth not who shall gather 
them." It is well he does not. He sleeps, but it 
might disturb him in his grave to see how reck- 
lessly squandered is all that he carefully gathered ! 
that the portions he left are spent with the pro- 
digal's folly without being followed by the pro- 
digal's repentance ; and that no inscription so de- 
scribes his life and befits his tombstone, as — Vanity, 
vanity, and vexation of spirit ! He has enriched 
his children ; and ruined them. He sowed the wind, 
and they reap the whirlwind ; and may use in hell 
the words of one who, mourning the dissensions 
that a fortune they succeeded to had bred among 






RICHES. I35 

her brothers and sisters, the deplorable wrecks 
which it had made of youths once full of promise, 
exclaimed, as she wrung her hands — Oh, that 
wretched money ! that wretched money ! 

Let us not be misunderstood. It is the duty of 
parents to make a prudent provision for their chil- 
dren, and against the accidents of life. An apostle, 
speaking of him who provides not for those of his 
own house, says, that he " is worse than an infidel, 
and has denied the faith." That man certainly 
commits a crime against his children who rears 
them in the habits of affluent circumstances, and 
leaves them beggars at his death. Such conduct, 
however common, is inexcusable and cruel in the 
upper classes. And it is unwise and wrong in the 
humbler, not to make honey or hay when the sun 
shines ; and stand prepared for days when the right 
hand has lost its cunning, and the brawny arm its 
strength, and the back that bore itself erect under 
the burden of life's daily toil, bends beneath the 
weight of years. Only let money be kept in its 
own place. Its place is in your hands, not in your 
affections. Lodge it in the bank ; but not in your 
heart — keep that for God. Gold is a good servant ; 
but a bad, base, exacting, cruel, despotic master. 
Be on your guard ; if it is not your servant, you 
must be its slave. Well does the Bible pronounce 
the love of it to be " the root of all evil." It drew 
Lot into Sodom, from whose fiery ruin he escaped 
but by the skin of his teeth. Demas was an apostle 
and it rtiade him an apostate. It turned Judas into 
a traitor, and, loading his name with eternal infamy, 
sank his soul into eternal perdition. Money cannot 
be safely made, or safely saved, but by those who 



I36 MAN AND THE GOSPEL, 

through grace receive and use it as a gift from God ; 
who would not give one red drop of a Saviour's 
blood for all the gold of banks ; who amid all other 
questions of profit and loss, are most impressed and 
most occupied with this, — What shall it profit a 
man though he gain the whole world, if he lose his 
own soul ? What shall a man give in exchange 
ior his soul I 



THE LAW OF GOD. 1 37 



%\t £»fo irf «0lr. 



"If ye fulfil the royal law according to the scripture, Thou shalt 
love thy neighbor as thyself ye do well : but if ye have respect to per- 
sons, ye commit sin, and are convinced of the law as transgressors. 
For whosoever shall keep the whole law, and yet offend in one point, 
he is guilty of all. For he that said, Do not commit adultery, said 
also, Do not kill. Now if thou commit no adultery, yet if thou kill, 
thou art become a transgressor of the law. So speak ye, and so do, as 
they that shall be judged by the law of liberty. For he shall have 
judgment without mercy, that hath showed no mercy: and mercy 
rejoiceth against judgment" — St. James ii. 8-13. 

GOD always uses such means as are best suited 
to the work He has on hand — carpenters, archi- 
tects, mechanics, in employing various kinds of 
tools, but copy the great Maker and Monarch of 
all. Long ages ago — ten thousand, perhaps ten 
hundred thousand years ago, when God was pre- 
paring this world for the abode of man, working 
on rough materials, He employed agents of tre- 
mendous power. What fires they were that fused 
the solid rocks ; how they roared and flamed, when 
— as science teaches and the Bible tells — " the 
hills melted like wax at the presence of the Lord !" 
We talk of stormy seas and mountain billows that 
toss our stoutest ships like feathers on the wave, 
and the round rattling shingle as it is swept up and 
down the foaming beach ; but what waves were 
those that, surging up the valleys, broke on the tops 



I38 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

of our highest hills, and flinging their spray in the 
face of heaven, left the plains covered with immense 
beds of gravel, and our glens with those granite 
boulders, whose rounded forms speak of long ages 
during which they had been rolled about on the 
shores of tremendous seas ! Who reads the pages 
of the book of Nature cannot doubt that, like man, 
our earth had been born naked — not clothed as 
now with soil and verdure. And what forces of 
ice, iceberg, of glacier, were they that ground 
the surface of the rocks to dust, which, borne off by 
rivers, was spread out on the bottom of the ocean 
to form the forest lands and corn fields of future 
continents ! And when in the course of time these 
were ready to be raised, how tremendous the power 
that heaved up, for example, the Alps, the Andes, 
this island, from the bed of the sea, and gave the 
rocks around which fish once swam and sea monsters 
sported, to be the home of the eagle — for clouds to 
girdle and snows to crown ! 

These forces have disappeared. They have 
done their work. And now God in Nature works 
by other and gentler agencies — soft falling dews, 
summer showers, the silent light, the feathery 
snow, the golden clouds, the ebb and flow of tides, 
and seas that — turned by sails and steam into the 
high road of distant nations — man ploughs as 
safely almost as he ploughs the land — " He is 
wonderful in counsel and excellent in working !" 

In His spiritual kingdom, in the dispensation of 
grace, as well as in the department of Nature, we 
find God also selecting instruments suited to the 
work He has in hand — using rough or gentle 
means according to the subject he has to work 



THE LAW OF GOD. 1 39 

upon. And in turning our attention to the law 
of God, I may remark that this accounts for the 
circumstances in which the moral law was delivered 
to the children of Israel at Mount Sinai. 

These circumstances were of a kind to rouse 
the attention of the most stupid, and strike terror 
into the stoutest hearts. Two days of preparation 
have passed, since Jehovah announced His inten- 
tion of descending on the mount ; and many an 
eye is turned on Sinai, that, with its gray head 
lifted calm and peaceful against the evening sky, 
wears no sign of the approaching event. If any 
asked, Where is the promise of His coming ? the 
third morning sealed the lips of cavillers and set 
all doubts at rest. A burst of thunder that shook 
the earth and heavens roused the sleeping camp ; 
and brought old and young to their tent doors to 
gaze with pale faces on Sinai. Wrapt to its feet 
in a sable mantle, it stands up a mass of solid 
blackness. Lightnings played around it : pierced 
it : and streaming from it, mingled many peals 
into one long, continuous, stunning roar of thunder. 
The mountain, as if kindled by these fires, vomited 
forth a smoke that, spreading a lurid cloud over 
the sky, darkened the face of day ; and the earth, 
as if infected with the terror of the people, began 
to tremble beneath their feet. The thunders cease 
— but to give place to sounds still more awful. 
Out from that terrible darkness, loud and long, 
louder and still louder, till it rung like the sum- 
mons that shall wake the dead, pealed the notes 
of a heavenly trumpet. Next, as I read the story, 
the trumpet ceases ; and the people who, struck 
with a panic, had fled from the borders of the 



140 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

mountain, and were standing afar off, heard a 
voice. It issued from the dark bosom of the 
cloud ; and audible not to hundreds, nor thou- 
sands, nor tens of thousands, but to the millions 
of that mighty multitude, it rang out loud and 
clear those ten commandments which, forming the 
moral law, expressed the will of God, and should 
ever prove the rule of man. Overwhelmed, half 
dead with terror, ready to exclaim with Jacob, 
How terrible is this place ! the people ran to 
Moses, crying, Speak thou with us, and we will 
hear ; but let not God speak with us, lest we 
die. 

Such were the circumstances in which the ten 
commandments were first spoken to man ; and 
looking only at circumstances — in which that law 
appears clothed and crowned with terrors, without 
reflecting on the reasons for them, or considering 
the peculiar nature of the case, we allow ourselves 
to associate the law of God with His terrors, and 
only the Son of God with His love — as if God in 
the law, and God in redemption appeared in 
different characters. Ask a man where the love 
of God is to be seen, he would never dream of 
pointing to the table of the ten commandments. 
He turns his back on Sinai, and his face to Cal- 
vary, saying, There, on that bloody tree, in its 
blessed burden, behold the love of God ! This 
is a mistake ; a very great mistake ; a pestilent 
heresy. No doubt it is hardly possible to imagine 
a greater contrast than the scenes of Sinai, and 
those in which the Saviour of the world was born : 
shepherds watching their flocks on the quiet up- 
lands of Bethlehem ; the calm night with its spark- 



THE LAW OF GOD. 141 

ling stars and soft falling dews ; the world around 
— the babe on its mother's breast, and children 
locked in each other's arms, all hushed in slumber ; 
the deep silence broken by no sound save the 
baying of a watch-dog, the tinkling of mountain 
streams, or the distant murmur of a waterfall ; a 
beautiful light far up in the deep blue sky, de- 
scending, brightening till the stars are quenched 
in its glory ; then a gentle voice, sounding down 
from above to banish the alarm of these simple 
shepherds, and saying, Fear not, behold, I bring 
you good tidings of great joy — then the whole 
sky suddenly bursting into light, and songs of 
sweetest voices singing, as they sing before the 
throne, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth 
peace, good-will toward men. 

Still, in delivering the moral law amid circum- 
stances so different from these, the God of love 
was only using such means as the work required. 
True, they were circumstances of terror ; but they 
were needed. Slavery had been for centuries the 
cruel lot of the children of Israel ; and that — 
which John Wesley rightly called "the sum of all 
villanies" — had sunk the Hebrews, as it does 
every race it curses, into the lowest depths of 
ignorance, stupidity, brutality, mental and moral 
debasement. Their history is crowded with proofs 
of that ; they were a stiff-necked people, ever 
longing to return to Egypt — preferring its onions 
with bondage, to liberty with the bread of heaven. 

In dealing with such a people God had the 
rudest materials to work upon. Rough work re- 
quires rough instruments : to use a figure whose 
appropriateness may excuse its familiarity, men 



142 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

don't cut blocks with razors. It is with an axe 
the woodman fells the forest. It is with the 
strongest stimulants — in a case we knew of, pour- 
ing boiling water on his naked thighs — that the 
physician rouses one sunk into deadly stupor. 
Snow melts before the soft breath of spring ; but 
rocks are only split by the stroke of lightning or 
the blast of powder. Gold is beaten into shape 
without the aid of fire — not iron : more stubborn 
metal, it has to be thrust into the roaring forge. 

A dull, gross, animal, apathetic congregation 
requires a rousing preacher — that he who occupies 
the pulpit be no Barnabas but a Boanerges, a son 
of thunder. Even so, God having in Israel to 
deal with a hard-hearted and obdurate people, 
adapted His instruments to the material He had 
to work upon : thundered out His law in their 
ears, and sought by these circumstances of terror 
to impress it on their hearts. These, however, 
being but the dress it wore, do not properly be- 
long to the law ; nor are they the true exponents 
of the mind of the Lawgiver. There is the same 
love in the law as in the gospel — the difference is 
only in expression, as when I warn one against 
venturing into the roaring flood, and when, on his 
leaping madly in, I follow to save him. In the 
law Love warns, in the Cross it redeems. Both 
are, as I undertake to show, the true mirror of Him 
who thus defines His own character, "'God is 
love " — " Fury is not in me." 

The spring of the law is love. 

With its, Thou shalt not do this, and Thou 
shalt not do that, the law presents rather an 
ungracious aspect. We like all to be bidden, but 



THE LAW OF GOD. 143 

worse to be forbidden. But does Love never for- 
bid ? A mother, does she never forbid her child ; 
but, on the contrary, indulge every caprice and 
grant all its wishes ? How disastrous the fate and 
brief the life of a child denied nothing ; indulged 
in everything — allowed to play with fire, or fire- 
arms ; to devour the painted but poisonous fruit — 
to bathe where the tide runs like a racehorse, or 
the river rushes roaring into the black swirling 
pool. And who frets against the restraints of 
God's holy law because it forbids this and the 
other thing, is no wiser than the infant who weeps, 
and screams, and struggles, and perhaps beats the 
kind bosom that nurses it, because its mother has 
snatched a knife from its foolish hands. 

No doubt the law restrains us ; but all chains 
are not fetters, nor are all walls the gloomy pre- 
cincts of a jail. It is a blessed chain by which the 
ship, now buried in the trough, and now rising 
on the top of the sea, rides at anchor and outlives 
the storm. The condemned would give worlds to 
break his chain, but the sailor trembles lest his 
should snap ; and when the gray morning breaks 
on the wild lee-shore, all strewn with wrecks and 
corpses, he blesses God for the good iron that 
stood the strain. The pale captive eyes his high 
prison wall, to curse the man that built it, and 
envy the little bird that, perched upon its summit, 
sings merrily, and flies away on wings of freedom ; 
bu 4 " were you travelling some Alpine pass where 
the narrow road, cut out of the face of the rock, 
hung over a frightful gorge, it is with other eyes 
you would look on the wall that restrains your 
restive steed from backing into the gulf below. 



144 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

Such are the restraints God's law imposes — ns 
other. It is a fence from evil — nothing else. I 
challenge the world to put its finger on any one 
of these ten commandments which is not meant, 
and calculated to keep us from harming ourselves, 
or hurting others. There is the same love in the 
law that there is in the gospel ; and between them 
a harmony as perfect as the music of that heaven 
where the harps are gold, and the strings are 
touched by angels' fingers. The hand, indeed, 
that wrote these commandments is the same that 
v/as nailed to the cross ; and amid Sinai's loudest 
thunders Faith recognizes, though it speaks in 
other tones, the voice which prayed for mercy on 
murderers, and promised paradise to a dying thief. 

The spirit of the law is love. 

By her subtle arts chemistry extracts from the 
crude and bulky substance its spirit, essence, essen- 
tial element : offering us in a small phial of the 
costly attar the fragrance of a whole field of roses, 
and in a few drops drawn from the poppy juice, 
that potent element which dulls the sense of pain, 
and charms suffering to sleep. But no odor dis- 
tilled from the blushing rose smells so sweet, no 
spirit drawn from the gaudy poppy soothes the 
smart of pain, as the spirit of love which Jesus finds 
in a law that so many regard with dread — fears 
groundless as those that saw in Himself a spectre 
of the deep, and which He laid, as His voice on 
another night did the waves, with It is I, be not 
afraid. With such reassuring, comforting words, 
God, as a God of love, comes to us in this dreaded 
Law. Jesus takes these ten commandments into 
His hands, analyzes them, extracts their true es- 



THE LAW OF GOD. 145 

sence and spirit— and what is it ? It is love — love 
toward God, and love toward man. Whoever 
doubts it, let them listen to His answer, when a 
lawyer, tempting Him, came and said, Master, 
which is the great commandment ? Jesus said unto 
him, " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all 
thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy 
mind ; this " — not, thou shalt have no other gods 
before me ; nor, thou shalt not make unto thee 
any graven image ; nor, thou shalt not take the 
name of the Lord thy God in vain ; nor, thou shalt 
not kill, or steal, or commit adultery — " this is the 
first and great commandment ; and the second is 
like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as 
thyself — and on these," He adds, " hang all the law 
and the prophets." 

Take, for example, the second table of the law, 
those six commandments which respect our con- 
duct not to God, but to our fellow-men. Do not 
these enjoin the very things which Love would 
prompt to ; and teach us to carry into practice the 
golden rule, as it is called, that grandest maxim 
which ever fell on human ear, Do unto others as 
ye would have others do unto you ? Who that 
loves his neighbor as he loves himself would steal 
from him, would kill him, seduce his wife, or swear 
away his fair name, his liberty, or life ? Does not 
the loveliness and divine excellence of the law 
appear in this, that no man, however much he 
might wish to have liberty to break it for his 
own pleasure against others, would wish that any 
should have license to break it against himself? 
What villain coolly laying, devil-like, his snares to 
seduce another's wife, or sister, or daughter, would 

10 



146 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

consent that others should have license to seduce 
his own ? Even thieves insist on honesty between 
each other. Traitors consign to death the man 
who turns traitor on themselves. Thus the worst 
of men pay homage to the law — it is sacrificed to 
their passions, but like the victims of old that were 
led to the altar crowned with garlands of flowers. 
With their bad passions raging against it as the 
sea foams and rages against the shore that con- 
fines its waves within their bounds, men, like the 
fool who hath said in his heart, There is no God, 
have sometimes wished there were no law ; and 
that every one was left, as in Israel when there 
was no king, to do what was right in his own eyes. 
No law ! That wish were hardly granted when it 
would happen with them as with the man of hea- 
then fable, who had sought and received from 
Jupiter the power of turning all he touched to 
gold. And when the bread he hungered for 
changed in his hand to gold, and the water he 
raised to his thirsty lips turned at their touch to 
gold, and the downy pillow on which he laid a 
weary head stiffened into a solid, unyielding, 
uneasy mass of gold, he besought the god to 
resume the grant, and relieve him of this fatal 
gift. Fancy what a world this would be, set loose 
from the restraints of God's holy law — no written, 
no inner law — no conscience — -no ten command- 
ments — the reins flung loose on the neck of pas- 
sion — all men and women left to obey every im- 
pulse of appetite, and do what was right in their 
own eyes ! What a Sodom, Gomorrah, hell ! 
Remove these restraints, and iniquity in such 
deluge as would pour on a neighboring land were 



THE LAW OF GOD. 147 

its sea-dikes thrown down, would drown the earth 
and destroy men from off its face. 

On one occasion the barons of England ad- 
dressed their king, saying, We do not wish the 
laws of England changed ; and we have only to 
fancy what a dreadful world this would become, 
without the restraining influence of these laws of 
God, to say, We do not wish one of them changed ! 
Not prisons and police, not the baton of the con- 
stable or the bayonet of the soldier ; but these are 
the bond of society ; the shield of virtue ; the pro- 
tection of innocence ; the strength of weakness ; 
the guardian of public morals and domestic peace. 
And nothing but the base bad passions that spring 
from our corrupt nature, hinders any from saying 
with David, Oh how love I thy law, O Lord : it is 
my meditation all the day — teach me thy statutes 
— the law of thy mouth is better to me than 
thousands of gold and silver — therefore I love thy 
commandments above gold, yea, above fine gold : 
and esteem all thy precepts concerning all things 
to be right. 

The sacredness of this law. 

The apostle St. James says, " Whosoever shall 
keep the whole law, and yet offend in one point, is 
guilty of all." This seems hard measure — to make 
a man offender for a word — to treat him for break- 
ing one commandment as one that had broken 
all the ten. It looks at first sight as if the unpro- 
fitable servant who hid his master's talent in a 
napkin, had some reason for speaking of him as 
an " austere" man. How do we justify that ? We 
might leave God to justify Himself. We might 
ask, Shall not the Judge of all the earth 4 s ^Vht ? 



I48 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

And leaving this, with many other mysteries, to 
be solved at the last day, or in that world wheie, 
with eyes purified from the mists of sin, we shall 
see as we are seen, and know as we are known, we 
might answer with St. Paul, " Who art thou, O 
man, that repliest against God? Shall the thing 
made say to him who made it, Why hast thou 
made me thus ? " But the case is not without a 
parallel in our own judicial proceedings — and as 
done in our courts of law who thinks the practice 
wrong ? A witness, for instance, sworn by Al- 
mighty God to tell the truth, the whole truth, and 
nothing but the truth, is giving evidence in a case 
where a man is on trial for his life. He states 
many, as lawyers say, damning facts, and makes 
out a case against the accused clear as daylight. 
What need of further witnesses ? The jury lay 
down their pens, the judge throws himself back in 
his seat, and the spectators, turning to the poor, 
pale wretch at the bar, look on him as a dead man, 
feeling as sure that he will be hanged as that the 
sun shall rise to-morrow. And yet he is not 
hanged — the tables are turned in an instant ; and 
like one in battle from whose head the sword 
has shorn his nodding plume, the man escapes — 
escapes, as the Bible says, by the skin of his teeth. 
The witness whose evidence had brought him to 
the scaffold, and to the very brink of ruin, tells a 
lie ; one clear, deliberate falsehood. It may be on 
a very small point ; it does not matter. All his 
other evidence may be true as the gospel — it 
does not matter ; that one lie nullifies all his other 
testimony — blotting it clean out — reducing it to 
nothing. Convicted of perjury on one point, his 



THE LAW OF GOD. I49 

evidence is dealt with as if he had been guilty of 
perjury in all ; and that for this good reason — that 
one capable of swearing to a single lie, is capable 
of swearing to twenty. Even so — though you 
may start at the bold assertion, and when you 
think of some gross and horrid sins may be ready 
to exclaim, Is thy servant a dog that he should do 
such a thing ? — the man who is capable of break- 
ing one of God's commandments, is capable of 
breaking them all ; in mind and spirit, he that 
offendeth in one point is guilty of all. 

There are degrees, no doubt, of guilt as there 
are degrees of glory ; there is a descending as well 
as an ascending scale ; there are higher places in 
heaven, and hotter places in hell. It shall be more 
tolerable for Sodom and Gomorrah in the day of 
judgment than for Jerusalem sinners : and more 
tolerable for Jerusalem sinners than for the sinners 
of our land and cities, — for us if we reject or even 
neglect the great salvation. Still there is no de- 
gree of guilt but is fatal ; sin is a poison of which 
the smallest drop kills ; the law is so sacred that 
one offence, one breach of any of its command- 
ments, exposes us to the wrath of God as certainly 
as a thousand. The case finds its apt illustration 
in yonder arch which spans the waters that reflect 
its bending beautiful form — drive out not ten stones, 
but one, and the whole pile tumbles into a mass 
of ruins. Or to vary the figure, a woman's virtue 
is as certainly lost by one fall as by twenty ; 
and he is as certainly a thief who steals a 
penny as he who steals a pound — who filches 
but a farthing from a ragged beggar, as he who 
blunders a bank of its gold, or robs a king of his 



150 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

crown. " He who offendeth in one point is guilty 
of all." 

Tried in this balance, who is not wanting ? 
Tried by this test, who can stand the ordeal ? 
Well is it said, " If thou shouldst mark iniquity, 
O Lord, who shall stand ?" You have not been 
great sinners ! What of that ? — he who offendeth 
in one point is guilty of all. I admit that there are 
unconverted people " lovely in their lives," in tem- 
per amiable, very likeable, kind-hearted, generous, 
just in their dealings, honest to a farthing, and in 
their friendships true as steel ; such that, were 
Christ to walk this world now as He did eighteen 
hundred years ago, He would love them as He 
loved the young ruler who came, and, falling at 
His feet, cried, Master, what shall I do to inherit 
eternal life ? Suppose you were such, — and that is 
not supposing little, — what of that ? What man or 
woman can hold up their hands to say, These 
hands are clean ; uncover their bosom, lay bare the 
secrets of their hearts, to say, My heart is pure — 
then, alas ! he that offendeth in one point is guilty 
of all — One, but one sin ! Ah ! that is the dead fly 
in the apothecary's ointment ; there stands the spot 
of leprosy on beauty's brow. There are none, not 
the loveliest of human characters, but have sinned ; 
and he who offendeth in one point is guilty of all. 
This bolts the door of heaven against all self- 
righteous hopes. Looking down on others, shrink- 
ing from the society of the openly licentious, the 
ungodly or profane, and saying, as we push our way 
on, to this and that one, Stand aside, I am holier 
than thou, we may march bravely up to the gate. 
But to our plea, I have not been a great sinner, q* 



THE LAW OF GOD. 151 

I have not sinned like others, or I have been 
honest, and sober, and virtuous, correct in my 
deportment, and constant in my attendance on 
religious ordinances, there follows no drawing of 
bar and bolt — but only through the unopened door 
this stern reply, these words of doom, He that 
offendeth in one point is guilty of all. 

Terrible, yet blessed words ! Like the muttering 
of distant thunder, they warn us to haste to the 
refuge opened in the gospel. Like a friendly 
notice, they warn us in letters which he who 
runneth may read, No road to heaven this way. 
They shut us up to Christ. No misfortune that ! 
In Him we have all fulness of mercy to pardon, 
and grace to help ; and as men who, when they 
have done their utmost to stop the leak, and keep 
the ship afloat, find her settling down in the deep, 
in that terrible hour, with death staring them in 
the face, thank God for the life-boat that, pulled 
by strong hands, bears down on the sinking wreck, 
so we thank God for Christ ; we hail the Saviour 
of the lost. He has hastened to our relief — He is 
at our side — He invites us to His arms — for in 
Him, though the law condemns, " mercy rejoiceth 
against judgment." 

The gospel brings salvation to the law-breaker, 
Mercy does not rejoice against the justice of 
God. The claims of Justice were not ignored or 
repudiated ; but satisfied. Jesus bore our punish- 
ment, dying, the Just for the unjust, that He 
might bring us to God ; — and the gospel that 
saves does not present the sword of Justice broken, 
but, though red with blood, wreathed with roses. 
Nor does Mercy rejoice against the law of God 



1 52 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

— Christ tells us that He came not to destroy the 
law and prophets, but to fulfil them ; — and when 
the Son of God, leaving His Father's bosom, be- 
came a man to obey the precepts of the law, and 
pay the penalty due by us for breaking them, He 
crowned the law with higher honors than it had 
worn though Adam had never fallen, and Eden 
had ne'er been lost. It was great honor done to 
the law when God wrote it with His own finger 
on tables of stone ; but it receives a higher honor 
when, dipping His finger in the blood of Christ, 
He writes it on the fleshly tablets of a living, 
loving heart. There have been great sermons 
preached and printed on the ten commandments, 
but the Cross is the greatest sermon that was ever 
preached on the law; and as we have seen a 
lofty mountain best, not from the plain, but from 
the top of another, it is on the summit of Calvary 
that you command the grandest views of Sinai. 

It is against not God's law or justice, but the 
devil and death, the grave and hell, that Mercy 
rejoiceth. Rejoiceth ! grand, wonderful word, it 
lays open the very heart of God. Father of the 
prodigal, kind, loving, joyful man, running to meet 
thy trembling son, folding the poor wretch in thy 
fond embraces, lavishing tears and kisses on his 
haggard cheek, bestowing forgiveness before con- 
fession, and with answers anticipating prayer, thou 
wert but a dim, imperfect image of our Father 
which is in heaven. It is not only that God 
"has no pleasure in the death of the wicked." 
What father has ? The more wicked the son, the 
calamity is the greater ; the deeper goes the knife 
»*nto a bleeding heart, as that greatest, blackest 



THE LAW OF GOD. I $3 

grief gushes forth in a cry like this, O my son 
Absalom ! my son, my son Absalom ; would God 
I had died for thee, O Absalom, my son, my son ! 
Nor is it only that God is " not willing that any 
should perish." He is God and not man ; and 
even we are not. I have seen the life-buoy spun 
out to a drowning man, and, amid the crowd on 
the pier that gazed in horror, there was none, as 
they watched its course over the roaring waves, 
but wished in his heart that it might reach its 
mark. Nor is it only that God is "willing that 
all should come to Him, and live." What mother 
but would open her door who heard the knock- 
ing, and recognized the well-known voice of some 
poor, fallen child, that had sunk down there amid 
the winter drift, and cried, with failing breath, O 
mother, mother dear, open and let me in. And 
who thinks so ill of God as to believe that when 
He hears such a cry at the door of mercy, He 
will not rise to let us and to welcome us in ! 
More than all that, God rejoiceth to save, and 
receive back to His bosom the worst and un- 
worthiest of His erring children — of those who, 
like lost sheep, have gone astray. Mercy re- 
joiceth against judgment. It is a blessed thing to 
fill a mother's heart with joy, and pour a tide 
of gladness into the bosom on which we hung — 
so deeply loved and tenderly cared for in help- 
less infancy. And be he poor or rich, prince or 
peasant, I honor the man who would do, dare, 
suffer anything to gil'd the evening of a father's 
lifa> and smooth the thorns of his dying pillow. 
It is a grand thing to make glad a parent's heart. 
But here we may do a thing grander still. Turn 



154 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

to the call of mercy, and you fill the great heart 
of God with joy, and angels' harps with praise. 
It may be that you do not love Jesus. Well, 
Jesus loves you ; and pities you. You spit on 
Him, despise His love, repel His approaches ? 
Well, His blessed hand arrests the gleaming axe, 
as He turns to His Father to say, " Father, forgive 
them ; they know not what they do !" 

Thus mercy rejoiceth against judgment. And 
let none stand back as if their sins were too great 
to be forgiven, or their case too bad to be cured. 
Jesus is an Advocate who never lost a cause — a 
Physician who never lost a patient — His blood 
cleanseth from all sin, and through Him the door 
of heaven stands open to publicans, harlots, the 
chief of sinners. Let all come ! See there Mercy, 
sweet Mercy, wearing a form of celestial beauty, 
with a blood-bought pardon in this hand, and a 
sparkling crown in that, stands aloft on the 
summit of the Cross, ringing forth this old cry, 
" Sing, O daughter of Zion ; be glad and rejoice, 
O daughter of Jerusalem. — The Lord hath taken 
away thy judgment ; he hath cast out thine enemy. 
— Fear not, and let not thine hands be slack. 
The Lord thy God in the midst of thee is mighty ; 
he will save." — Save ? save is almost a cold and 
feeble word. More, much more than save; "as 
a bridegroom rejoiceth over his bride, so will thy 
God rejoice over thee." 



FAITH AND WORKS. t^ 



Jfaitfr antr Harks, 



*' What doth it profit, my brethren, though a man say he hath faith, 
md have not works ? can faith save him ? If a brother or sister be 
naked, and destitute of daily food, and one of you say unto them, 
Depart in peace, be ye warmed and filled; notwithstanding ye give 
them not those things which are needful to the body; what doth it 
profit ? Even so faith, if it hath not works, is dead, being alone. 
Yea, a man may say, Thou hast faith, and I have works : show me 
thy faith without thy works, and I will show thee my faith by my 
works. Thou believest that there is one God; thou doest well, the 
devils also believe, and tremble. But wilt thou know, vain man, 
that faith without works is dead ? Was not Abraham our father 
justified by works, when he had offered Isaac his son upon the altar ? 
Seest thou how faith wrought with his works, a?id by works was faith 
made perfect ? And the scripture was fulfilled which saiih, Abraham 
believed God, and it was imputed unto him for righteousness : and he 
was called the Friend of God, Ye see then how that by works a man 
is justified, and not by faith only. Likewise also was not Rahab the 
harlot justified by works, when she had received the messengers, and 
had sent them out another way ? For as the body without the spirit is 
dead, so faith without works is dead also.' 1 -St. Jambs ii. 14-26. 

There is no analogy between mind and matter 
more remarkable than the reaction to which both 
are liable. Set free the pendulum which you have 
drawn to one side, and, obeying the law of gravita- 
tion, it returns to its centre ; but in doing so, 
swings over to the other side. Or, twist a cord 
that has a weight attached to it ; and set loose, 
whirling rapidly on its axis, it untwines itself ; but 
does more, taking many a turn in the opposite 



t$6 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

direction. Or, follow the billow that, driven by 
the tempest and swelling as it advarces, flings 
itself on the iron shore ; it bursts, thundering, into 
snowy foam ; but does more — like men from a 
desperate charge, it rolls back violently into the 
sea. Even so on a change of opinions and man- 
ners, how prone are men to pass from one to the 
opposite extreme, borne by the recoil beyond the 
line of truth — a danger this against which re- 
formers, whether of states or churches, of public 
morals or private manners, need to be on their 
guard. 

Thus we account for the extraordinary judg- 
ment that such a man as Martin Luther, that 
champion of the faith, pronounced on the book 
of St. James. He denied its inspiration ; and not 
content with robbing this book of divine authority, 
he scrupled not to speak of it in contemptuous 
terms — calling it a chaffy epistle. It is easy to 
account for his saying that, when he believed it. 
He was a man of dauntless courage. Remaining 
at Wirtemberg when all others had fled, he faced 
the plague, saying, It is my post ; should brother 
Martin fail, yet the world will not fail. When 
Melanchthon, and every friend he had on earth, 
urged him not to go to Augsburg, to be given up 
to the machinations of the legate. They have 
already, he replied, torn my honor and my repu- 
tation, let them have my body if it is the will of 
God — my soul they shall not take. Entreated on 
his approach to Worms not to enter a town 
where his death was decided on, he pushed for- 
wards, saying, Tell your master, that if there 
were as many devils at Worms as tiles on its 



FAITH AND WORKS. 1 57 

roofs, I would enter. And there, before the 
world's great Emperor, face to* face with a host 
of princely and priestly enemies, he stood a lion 
at bay, and to the reiterated question, Whether 
he would retract, with a sword suspended over 
him, and a grave yawning at his feet, replied, I 
will retract nothing ; here I take my stand ; I can- 
not do otherwise. So help me God. Amen. 
This was a man to speak whatever he believed ! 

Nor is it difficult to account for Luther's error. 
One day while climbing a stair at Rome on his 
knees, in hope of thus climbing to heaven, of 
meriting salvation through such pains and pen- 
ances, the Spirit of God flashed this great truth 
into his mind, with the effulgence and force of 
lightning, "The just shall live by faith." He rose 
a new man ; a second St. Paul ; his mission hence- 
forth on earth, to preach life by faith — the glorious 
doctrine of justification by faith without works, 
through the blood and merits of Jesus Christ. 
Well, look now at his position. There, hoar with 
age, strong in the personal interests of her priests 
and the profound prejudices of her people, resting 
on salvation by works, ceremonies, pay, and pen- 
ance, stood the old walls of Rome ; and on their 
ramparts the cowled Dominican, selling indul- 
gences, and boasting — (I quote his very words) — 
" I would not exchange my privilege against 
those that St. Peter has in heaven, for I have 
saved more souls by my indulgences than he 
by his sermons. Whatever crime one may have 
committed, let him pay well, and he will receive 
pardon." All that he said, and something about 
the Virgin more shocking — too shocking for your 



I58 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

ears. This profanity, this daring blasphemy, and 
that whole Romish system which substitutes the 
crucifix for the Crucified, and for His merits man's 
wretched works of penance and pilgrimages, sack- 
cloth for the skin, and fish on Friday, these pro- 
duced on Luther's impulsive mind such a tre- 
mendous recoil, that in the rebound from error he 
passed the line of sober truth. Fancying some- 
thing in the Epistle of St. James to be at variance 
with the doctrine of justification by faith, as set 
forth in the writings of St. Paul, he rejected it ; 
rashly rejected it — scared by a phantom, the mere 
appearance of discrepancy. And doing so, he 
has furnished the Church of God with another 
illustration of the words, " Put not your trust in 
princes," — nor in Luther, nor Calvin, nor in Cran- 
mer, nor Knox — " nor in the son of man, in whom 
there is no help." 

Between the sentiments of these two apostles 
there is no real discrepancy. Before St. James 
had written his Epistle, the doctrine of justifica- 
tion by faith without works had been abused, and 
turned to the vilest purposes. " Wresting," to use 
St. Peter's language, the words of St. Paul from 
their true meaning, some made them a cover for 
the grossest sensuality, holding this immoral, hor- 
rible doctrine, that men could be saved by mere 
knowledge of the truth, mere intellectual assent 
to sound doctrines — miscalled faith, though they 
were impious in heart, and in practice impure. 
It was against this pestilent heresy, this poisonous 
weed, that, native to every soil, has sprung up in 
all ages, and against those who confessed Christ in 
words, but in works denied Him, that St. James 



FAITH AND WORKS. 159 

took pen in hand, saying, What doth it profit, my 
brethren, that a man say he hath faith and have 
not works ? Can faith — this faith, such a faith — 
save him ? Faith, if it hath not works, is dead, 
being alone. 

We are saved by faith in the merits of Jesus 
Christ. 

Can faith save ? Certainly ; if it be not that 
false and spurious thing which St. James pro- 
nounces dead ; but true faith. Sooner than be- 
lieve otherwise, even on the authority of an 
epistle attributed to St. James, I would believe 
with Luther that the apostle's name was a forgery ; 
and that the epistle which bore it, and was bound 
up with the Bible, had, like Satan among the 
sons of God, or bad money among the current 
coin, got into company better than its own. 

And how are we saved by faith ? Not by any 
merit in our faith, for that is the gift of God 
and the work of His Holy Spirit ; and is, so to 
speak, but the rope which the drowning man 
clutches, and by which another pulls him living 
to the shore. God its author, the heart its seat, 
good works its fruit, Christ is its object ; and it 
saves by bringing us to the Saviour. It weeps 
with the Magdalene at His feet ; it prays with the 
thief, Lord remember me ; with the blind it gropes 
for Christ, crying, Thou Son of David, have 
mercy on us ! and with Simon, as he sank amid 
the roaring billows, seeing help in none else, it 
stretches out its arms to Jesus, with Lord save 
me, I perish ! Greatest act of the soul, it lays 
my sins on Jesus, and so relieves my conscience 
ot a load of guilt ; and taking off my rags tp 



l6o MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

put Christ's righteousness on me, it covers a poor 
sinner with a robe fairer than angels wear. 

May any be thus saved ; without works ; with- 
out merit ; guilty as he who said, I believe that I 
have committed every sin possible to man unless 
murder ? Ay, and with murder to boot. It is 
the glory of Christ's blood that it cleanseth from 
all sin, and was poured out freely for the chief 
of sinners ; so that if any man, troubled for his 
sins, in terror of divine wrath, afraid to die, afraid 
even to go to sleep lest he should awake in hell, is 
crying, Oh, sirs, what shall I do to be saved ? I 
say with St. Paul, when the jailer, at midnight, on 
his knees, was putting the same question, " Be- 
lieve in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be 
saved." I know no other way. There is none. 
There is no name given under heaven whereby we 
can be saved but the name of Jesus : and united to 
Him, though by the weakest, slenderest faith, you 
are safe. 

Christ drew divine lessons from gay flowers and 
singing birds. And in the conservatory I have 
seen a plant from which such saints as Bunyan's 
Mr. Feeble-mind might draw strength ; gather 
something more fragrant than its odors, more 
beautiful than its purple flowers. Climbing the 
trellis, which it interwove with spreading verdure 
and flowery beauty, it sprang from the soil by a 
mere filament of a stem. Unlike the mountain 
pine and sturdy oak, that seem built for the 
heads they carry, and the storms they have to 
encounter, one had to trace it upwards and down- 
wards to be convinced that this thread of a stalk 
was the living, nourishing, sustaining channel be- 



FAITH AND WORKS. l6l 

tween these flowering branches and the hidden 
root. How like that seemed in its feebleness to 
the faith of some ! But there the likeness ceased. 
Roughly handled, that fragile stem was broken ; 
and, severed from their root, branches and flowers 
all withered away ; but thanks be to God that, 
united to Christ, even by the feeblest faith, we 
can affirm that, Neither death nor life, nor things 
present nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, 
nor any other creature, shall be able to separate 
us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus 
our Lord. 

Good works are the certain fruit of this saving 
faith. 

One of the greatest marshals of France had for 
his opponent in a civil war the Prince of Conde. 
In him Turenne found a foeman worthy of his 
steel — the only man indeed who could rival him in 
military genius, moving troops, the arrangement 
and fighting of battles, sudden surprises and suc- 
cessful attacks. One night, when the prince was 
supposed to be many leagues away, Turenne lay 
sleeping securely in his camp. He was suddenly 
roused to hear in cries and shouts, the roar of mus- 
ketry and cannon, the signs of a midnight assault. 
Hasting from his tent, he cast his eye around him ; 
and at once discovering, by the glare of burning 
houses, the roar of the fight, the skill with which 
the attack had been evidently planned, and the 
energy with which it was being executed, the 
genius of his rival, he turned to his staff, and said, 
Conde is come ! Now, in some cases especially 
of sudden conversion, the advent of faith may 
be as certainly pronounced upon. The peace of 

IX 



162 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

death is broken, conscience awakes, sin appears 
exceeding sinful, empty forms no longer yield 
any comfort, carelessness about divine things gives 
place to all absorbing and intense anxieties, Death 
seems crowned with terrors, Sinai clothed with 
thunders, and exclaiming, What shall I do to be 
saved, the trembling soul hies to the Cross, clasps 
it, clings to it, to cry, Lord, save, I perish : in 
such circumstances you can safely say conversion 
is come, salvation come, Christ come ; and there 
is no presumption then in using, as we fall at 
Jesus' feet, the language of him who said, Lord, I 
believe ; help thou mine unbelief! 

But though thus saved through faith, and not 
of works, as St. Paul says, lest any man should 
boast, St. Paul is not less explicit about works ; 
on that subject his trumpet has an equally certain 
sound ; for in the very same passage he tells us 
that believers, they that have a true saving faith, 
are not only cleansed through Christ from guilt, 
but are created in Christ unto good works, which 
God, he adds, " hath foreordained that we should 
walk in them" — that these in fact are, in all 
cases, as surely as divine foreordination can make 
them, the fruit of living faith. How should it be 
otherwise ? Is not faith in every other condition 
of its existence full of works ; the world's great 
worker ? Look abroad ! In yonder husbandman 
who, though snow lies on hill-tops and frost bites 
in the air, and nights are long and days are short, 
and woods are bare, and birds are mute, believing 
that spring will come, summer come, and autumn 
come, gives his labor to the naked fields, Faith 
ploughs the soil. And in yon sailor, who though 



FAITH AND WORKS, 163 

he sees the land sink beneath the wave, boldly 
pushes out on the pathless deep, and trusts not to 
sight, for he sees only a wide waste of water 
where other keels have left no furrow, but to his 
charts and trembling needle. Faith ploughs the 
sea. And there where men, inspired with con- 
fidence in their comrades' bravery and com- 
mander's skill, march to their positions on the 
battle-field as on parade, stand up facing the 
deadly hail, or, crouching like lions to the spring, 
wait the word to rise and charge, Faith fights 
and wins. Not cannon, nor bayonets, but mainly 
Wellington's faith in his men, and his men's faith 
in Wellington, won Waterloo ; and who takes 
time to follow out the thought will find that faith 
in God's providence, in what are called the laws 
of Nature, in the fidelity of husbands and wives, 
in the affection of children and parents, in the 
justice of masters and honesty of servants, in 
men's integrity where they buy and sell, exchange 
or manufacture goods, in every mill and market, 
in every harbor and counting-room, is the working 
power of the world — the mighty wheel that most 
turns its machinery. 

Well, if faith is so productive of works outside 
the region of religion, how much more within it ? 
If faith in man so works, how much more faith in 
God ? Such faith as naturally produces what are 
called good works, as vines produce grapes, or 
sorrow tears, or joy smiles ; as the soil beneath 
us yields fruits and flowers, or the skies above us 
showers and sunshine. In the character of God, 
in the person, love, and work of His Son, in an 
eternal world, in the Bible, its gracious prooii*"** 



1 64 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

and its glorious prospects, it has to do with the 
grandest truths ; and for a man whose heart is not 
devout, nor his life holy, to say that he has that 
faith, is to deceive himself — and furnish an awfu] 
illustration of the saying, " The heart is deceitful 
above all things, and desperately wicked." Let no 
man deceive you. Not I, but God says, " No 
whoremonger, nor unclean person, nor covetous 
man who is an idolater, hath any inheritance in 
the kingdom of God." 

Therefore the hopes of salvation that rest on a 
faith without works are false, and being false \ are 
fatal. 

Last century, faith was out of fashion ; the pe- 
culiar doctrines of the gospel were ignored, unless 
it might be at a communion time. "Christ and 
Him crucified " were thrust out of sight ; unless in 
the form of some old mouldering stone, which the 
hammer of Reformers had missed, the cross was 
removed from the Church ; children learned to 
repeat the creed, but the boasted creed of many 
was that sung by Pope : 

" For modes of faith let graceless bigots fight, 
His can't be wrong whose life is in the right." 

Virtue and vice, the beauty of the one and the 
deformities of the other, were the favorite topics 
of the pulpit. Yet the people had so little taste, 
that they did not appear to fall in love with virtue ; 
nor were even some of those much smitten by her 
charms to whom she sat for her portrait. Men. 
drank deep last century ; swore profanely ; talked 
obscenely ; and indulged in a very loose morality. 
Strange to say, good works were never so much 



FAITH AND WORKS. 165 

preached, and so little practised. The more they 
were found in Sabbath sermons, the less they ap- 
peared in every-day life. Yet not strange ! " Thou 
bleeding Love," as Young sings — 

" The grand morality is love of Thee,' 

and Jesus, His love, His life, His death, excluded 
from pulpits, there was nothing to produce good 
works ; no pith in preaching ; no seed to yield '<* 
harvest ; no straw to make bricks ; no solid back- 
bone, so to speak, to support the soft parts, and 
keep the frame erect. And the attempt at home 
to have a morality without religion proved as 
signal a failure as that abroad, in France, to have 
a nation without a God. 

Morality without religion is a dream ; but not 
less a dream, and wild a dream, is religion without 
morality — a faith that lies in an orthodox creed 
without a godly and honest life — that lies in the 
cold assent of the understanding to truths that 
never touch the heart or affect the conduct. This 
wont stand the day which shall try the tree by its 
fruits, and by Christ's own lips pronounce per- 
dition on the workers of iniquity. We want a reli- 
gion that walks in the path of the ten command- 
ments — saying, Blessed is the man that walketh 
not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in 
the way of sinners. We want a religion that, not 
dressed for Sundays and walking on stilts, de- 
scends into common and every-day life ; is friendly, 
not selfish ; courteous, not boorish ; generous, not 
niggard ; sanctified, not sour ; that loves justice 
more than gain ; and fears God more than man ; 
to quote another's words — " a religion that keeps 



l66 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

husbands from being spiteful, or wives fretful ; 
that keeps mothers patient, and children pleasant ; 
that bears heavily not only on ' the exceeding 
sinfulness of sin/ but on the exceeding rascality of 
lying and stealing ; that banishes small measures 
from counters, sand from sugar, and water from 
milk-cans " — the faith, in short, whose root is Christ, 
and whose fruit is works. 

Any other St. James pronounces dead — not like a 
dead stone which in flashing diamond, or sculptured 
marble, may be beautiful — but dead like a lifeless 
body ; putrid, horrible, in decay. Not more loath- 
some to me the fetid corpse where no trace of 
beauty lingers, than to a holy God the man who 
holds good doctrines, but lives a bad life ; who 
unites a low practice to a high profession ; who, in 
words, exalts the Saviour's Gross, but in works — in 
crucifying His flesh, in living for others, in acts of 
self-denial, wont take up his own. Like some of 
old, does he say, I am for St. Paul, not for St. James ? 
St. Paul is not for him. I can fancy that apostle, 
in horror, rending the garment he wears in heaven ; 
repudiating the connection. One in glory before 
the throne, he and St. James are one in sentiment in 
this Bible. St. Paul, indeed, counted all things loss 
for Christ. He held the Cross aloft ; and, shaking 
that banner from its folds in the face of friend and 
foe, he waved it over the scaffold where his testi- 
mony was sealed with his blood. But the faith 
he preached was a faith that worketh — worketh 
by love ; crucifieth the flesh ; purifieth the heart ; 
and overcometh the world. Mark his last words 
to the Christians of a city in whose dungeons he 
had sung Christ's praises, and whose jailer he had 



FAITH AND WORKS. \6j 

conducted to Christ's feet. " Finally, brethren, 
whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are 
honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever 
things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, 
whatsoever things are of good report, if there be 
any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on 
these things." 

Believers are called by Christ's word to be workers. 

There are times — and such are ours — when, the 
inspiration of God's Word, the propitiation of the 
Cross, the necessity of conversion being denied, 
sound men are called to close their ranks, and 
contend together for the faith once delivered to 
the saints. The Captain of our salvation now 
seems to address His Church, as a commander the 
hollow square that with its front rank on the knee 
presenting a hedge of bayonets, and the second on 
their feet, with eyes glaring along the deadly 
barrel, is formed to receive cavalry. Their 
swords flashing in the sun, thundering on they 
come, with the impetus of a tremendous shock. 
The moment, how critical ! Le-t courage fail, the 
line waver, offer an opening, and in sweeps the 
foe like a whirlwind of steel. It is the moment 
for their commanding officer, as he runs his eye 
along the grim and stern faces, and ere he gives 
the word that, in a burst of musketry, empties 
many saddles, and rolls back that array like a 
broken, bloody wave, to cry, Be steadfast, im- 
movable ! In regard to matters of doctrine, at- 
tacked in our day from strange quarters, so Christ 
speaks to us now ; but He adds as when He first 
?pake these words by the mouth of St. Paul, 

always abounding in the work of the Lord," 



168 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

Yes ! Believers are now and then to be warriors ; 
but always to be workers. 

Indeed, an idle Christian is a contradiction in 
terms ; as much so as a drunken, lying, or 
adulterous Christian. For is not the Church a 
body, that has Christ for its Head, and His people 
for its members ? But did God ever make a body 
which He encumbered with idle members ? Never. 
What part, what member of this frame, moulded of 
clay, yet so fearfully and wonderfully made, does 
not work, was not made for working ? The eye is 
formed to see ; the ear to hear ; the tongue to 
speak ; the feet to walk ; the hands to grasp ; the 
lungs to breathe ; the brain to think ; the busy 
heart— the first to live and the last to die, a clock 
that needs no winding — to beat — and beating, send 
its blood through all the throbbing arteries. Let 
all, or even some of these members cease to work, 
I die instantly. Let any work irregularly, my 
health suffers ; the whole body, where each mem- 
ber has sympathy with another, suffers. Every 
member works. And the harbor, with its forest of 
tall masts, the city, with the grinding noises, and 
rolling carriages, and hurry of crowded streets, 
present no scene of activity so wonderful as that 
which, covered and concealed by our untransparent 
skin, is going on within us — innumerable organs all 
at work — working the livelong day — the night that 
stills the hum of streets, and throws the world's 
machinery out of gear, bringing no pause to them. 

Although in communion with this or that other 
Church, a member of an Episcopalian, or Presby- 
terian or Independent Church, who is not a work- 
ing Christian, i s no m ember of Christ's Church. 



FAITH AND WORKS. l6g 

Let those who are, work — do all the good, to all 
the persons, at all the times, in all the ways they 
can — abounding in good works. Every day they 
live, the busier — the shorter the time, the busier — 
the nearer the grave, the busier ; as a stone, 
descending the hill, rolls with increasing speed, till, 
taking its last bound, it plunges into the lake, and 
sinks into its placid bosom. 

So may the grave, with its " rest for the weary," 
close above our heads ; and, as heaven opens to 
receive our spirits to the repose of the just, may 
Jesus meet us at the gate, with His " Well done, 
good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy 
of thy Lord." 

Believers are called by Christ's example to be 
workers. 

It is common to speak, by way of distinction, of 
the working-classes. And men of lofty social posi- 
tion, and loftier minds — for, after all, there is 
nothing great about man but mind — when they 
stand on the platform of a popular assembly ad- 
dressing the sons of toil, to win their ears and 
hearts, will sometimes, referring to the labors and 
brain-work of office, rank themselves among the 
working-class. But whatever be their sex, sphere, 
or talents, all true followers of Jesus are of the 
working-class. They were otherwise no followers 
of Him who is not our Propitiation only, but also 
our Pattern ; who is not our Propitiation unless He 
is also our Pattern ; and whose life, begun in Beth- 
lehem, and closed in Calvary, was spent in " doing 
good." 

Bone of our bone, and flesh of our flesh, true man 
as well as God, He drank of our cup — enjoying as 



T?0 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

much, and more than we, the pleasures of friendship, 
the loveliness of nature, the feast kindness spread 
the happy faces of a marriage scene, seasons of 
welcome rest amid mountain solitudes, by Galilee's 
smiling lake, in the sweet society of Bethany. But 
was it for these He lived ? for enjoyment, or for 
employment? for others, or Himself? Himself! 
He denied Himself; forgot Himself; barely allowed 
Himself the rest that nature needed. His heart 
felt, and His eye wept, and His hand was ready for 
all human wretchedness. Who so patient with the 
bad — so gentle to the erring — so tender to the 
penitent ? Who sought His help in vain ? What 
poor beggar unpitied, or poor sinner unpardoned, 
ever left His door ? What blessings fell from the 
hands, on what errands of mercy went the sacred 
feet, they nailed, O Calvary, to thy cruel, accursed 
tree ! 

In the charity that covereth a multitude of sins, 
that hopeth and believeth all things, I can believe 
much. I believe that God will have mercy on the 
chief of sinners. I believe there is no sin you or I 
have done but may be washed out in the fountain 
where sins are lost and souls are saved. I believe 
that the vilest creature who pollutes society and 
degrades humanity, may creep into heaven at the 
back of the thief, shine with the purity, and mingle 
her voice with the song of angels. I believe no 
one is to be despaired of; not even the man who 
is just going over into the pit. Let him turn to 
Christ — He saves at the uttermost. But I cannot 
believe that a God of truth, with reverence be it 
spoken, will tell a lie — and what but a lie were it 
to say to a man that had wasted his life in ease. 



FAITH AND WORKS. I7I 

and pleasure, and self-indulgence, Well done ! 
How could He, who made it His meat and drink 
to do His Father's will, who lived and labored 
for His Father's glory, who died for the good of 
men, say to one who came up with his talent in a 
napkin, Well done, good and faithful servant — fol- 
lower of mine, Well done ! Certainly not. None 
share in Christ's joy but those that, in a sense, 
have shared in His agony. They enter into His 
rest who, baptized with the Spirit as well as the 
blood of Calvary, have entered into His labors. 
The wages, no doubt, are of grace ; yet no work, 
no wages ! No work, no wages — as true an aphor- 
ism as the well-known saying, No cross, no crown. 
Crowns are for living brows, but faith without 
works is dead. Ours be such a life as grace forms 
and the poet sings : 

" I live for those that love me, 
For those that know me true, 
For the heaven that smiles above me, 

And waits my coming too. 
For the cause that lacks assistance, 
For the wrongs that need resistance, 
For the future in the distance, 

For the good that I can do." 



VJ2 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 



&\t fror. 

" If a brother or sister be naked, and destitute of daily food, and 
one of you say unto them, Depart in peace, be ye warmed and filled ; 
notwithstanding ye give them not those things which are needful to the 
body; what doth it profit ?" — St. James ii. 15, 16. 

THERE are elements in nature which, though not 
always apparent to the senses, pervade, and, per- 
vading, affect every substance. Heat, for instance. 
There is warmth even in ice, cold as it feels ; heat 
as well in the icicles that hang from his thatch as 
in the glowing iron the smith, amid a shower 
of sparks, hammers on his ringing anvil ; fire not 
only in the sun, in the blazing grate, there where 
swarthy men tap the furnace, and molten iron 
rolls forth like liquid gold, but fire also, though 
asleep, and waiting the touch of steel, in the cold 
and coal black flint. Never dead, nor even alto- 
gether dormant, this all-pervading element is 
everywhere active ; the seeds and eggs which lie 
buried in the frozen soil owing to it their life, and 
the great ocean its fluidity — the waves that roar or 
ripple on its shores, the path it offers to our keels, 
and the innumerable myriads, from whales to 
shrimps, that people its depths and shallows. 

There are also laws in nature which, though 
often working in secrecy and silence, are domi- 
nant in every place and acting on every substance 



THE POOR. 173 

— the law of gravitation, for instance. We may 
recognize it only in its more striking displays : in 
the spheres where planets roll ; in the orbit which 
our earth describes around the sun ; in the skies, 
where the eagle, pierced by feathery arrow or 
bullet, and leaving for ever its airy fields, drops 
dead, like a stone, at our feet ; or on the mountain, 
where some rock, leaping from its lofty base, 
rushes down into the valley with the speed of 
lightning and the roar of thunder. Still, this law 
affects as well the mote of the sunbeam as the 
sun, and alike shapes the tear on an infant's cheek 
and the stars in heaven ; it is there, running in the 
sands of an hour-glass ; there, sounding in the 
tinkling of the tiniest rill ; and by the same power 
that bends the tail of a fiery comet and its path 
back to the sun, it bends the neck of a snowdrop, 
and thereby preserves from perishing the herald 
and harbinger of spring. 

As it is with such elements and laws in the 
kingdoms of nature, it is with the presence and 
influence of religion in a good man's life. It may 
not be always apparent, but it should be always 
present — its influence felt where it is not seen. 
Often, like those greatest powers of nature, heat 
and light, and electricity and magnetism, acting 
silently — sometimes, like the will when moving 
our lips to form words, or our limbs to produce 
motion, acting unconsciously — yet always acting ; 
so that in everything we do, in every step we take, 
in every duty we discharge, though it cannot be 
said with strict propriety that all our actions are 
religious, yet none are contrary to religion, and all 
of them are done religiously. Is not this just the 



174 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

mark at which St. Paul teaches us to aim in saying, 
" Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatso- 
ever ye do, do all to the glory of God ?" Doing 
so, human life, in its lowliest spheres, from man's 
cradle onward to his grave, or rather from his con- 
version to his death, may be made one long, con- 
tinuous, noble, religious service ; more sublime 
than any poem John Milton wrote ; more instruc- 
tive than any sermon of the greatest preacher ; 
and more acceptable far to God than any services 
performed within dead stone walls, amid cathedral 
pomp, and before ten thousand spectators. 

Now, in the whole range of duties there is none 
which, if not strictly religious, and, in the highest 
sense of the expression, a religious service, is more 
nearly allied to religion, and should be more 
under its presiding and holy influence, than that 
charity to the poor which is plainly dictated, and 
indeed powerfully enforced, in the question, " If a 
brother or sister be naked, and destitute of daily 
food, and one of you say unto them, Depart in 
peace, be ye warmed and filled ; notwithstanding 
ye give them not those things which are needful to 
the body, what doth it profit ?" Religion imposes 
this duty on us. In proof of which : 

God presents Himself to us as having a peculiar 
and tender care of the poor. 

It is not the robust but delicate child of the 
family, around whom a father's and mother's affec- 
tions cluster thickest, and are most closely twined. 
The boy or girl whom feebleness of body or mind 
makes least fit to bear the world's rough usage, 
and most dependent on others' kindness, is like 
those tendrils that, winding themselves round the 



THE POOR. 175 

tree they spangle with flowers, bind it most closely 
in their embraces, and bury their pliant arms 
deepest in its bark. And what a blessed and 
beautiful arrangement of Providence it is, that they 
who cost most care, and lie with greatest weight 
on parents' arms and hearts, are commonly most 
loved ! Helplessness, appealing to our pity, begets 
affection. Thus was the heart of the rough sailor 
touched, when, tossing with other castaways i'n an 
open boat on the open sea, he parted with a morsel 
of food, which, hidden with more care than misers 
hide their gold, he had reserved for his own last 
extremity. Around him lay men and women ; 
some dead with glassy eyes ; some dying, and 
these reduced to ghastly skeletons ; but none of 
these moved him to peril his own life for theirs. 
The object of his noble and not unrewarded gene- 
rosity — for, as if Heaven had sent it on purpose to 
reward the act, a sail speedily hove in sight — was 
a gentle boy, that, with his face turned on hers, 
lay dying in a mother's arms, and between whose 
teeth the famishing man put his own last precious 
morsel. Of this feeling I met also a remarkable 
illustration in my old country parish. In one of 
its cottages dwelt a poor idiot child ; horrible to 
all eyes but her parents' ; and so helpless, that, 
though older than sisters just blooming into 
womanhood, she lay, unable either to walk or 
speak, a burden on her mother's lap, almost the 
whole day long, — a heavy handful to one who had 
the cares of a family, and was the wife of a hard- 
working man, — and a most painful contrast to the 
very roses that flung their bright clusters over 
the cottage window, as well as to the lark that, 



176 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

pleased with a grassy turf, carolled within its cage. 
Death, in most instances unwelcome visitor, came 
at length, — to her and to their relief. Relief! so 
I thought ; and, when the father came with invita- 
tion to the funeral, so I said. Though not roughly, 
but inadvertently spoken, the word jarred on a 
tender chord ; and I was more than ever taught 
how Le-plessness begets affection in the very 
measure and proportion of itself, when he burst 
into a fit of sorrow, and, speaking of his beautiful 
boys and blooming girls, said, If it had been God's 
will, I would have parted with any of them rather 
than her. 

Now this kindness to the helpless, of which 
man's home, both in the humblest and highest 
walks of life, presents so many lovely instances, 
and which, you will observe, moves the roughest 
crowd on the street, without taking time to inquire 
into its merits, to throw themselves into the quar- 
rel of a woman or weeping child, is a flower of 
Eden, that clings to the ruins of our nature, — 
one beautiful feature of God's image which has 
to some extent survived the Fall. " The Lord is 
very pitiful and of tender mercy." Well named, 
" Our Father who is in heaven ;" He sets Himself 
forth in His Word as the Patron and Protector of 
the poor ; He recommends them in many ways 
and by many considerations to our kindness ; and 
teaches us that, if we would be like Himself, wc 
must remember their miseries amid our enjoy- 
ments, and fill their empty cups with the over- 
flowings of our own. In proof of this : 

Observe the sentiments of His Word toward thi 
poor. 



THE POOR. 177 

It breathes the most tender regard to them : 
for example — Whoso reproacheth the poor, re- 
proacheth his Maker ; Blessed is he that consider- 
ed the poor, the Lord shall deliver him in the 
time of trouble ; He shall judge the poor and 
needy ; He shall stand at the right hand of the 
poor ; The needy shall not alway be forgotten ; 
the expectation of the poor shall not perish for 
ever. How different from the spirit of a sordid 
age, which, as if there were no worthiness in genius 
or sense, or bravery, or virtue, or grace, values 
man by his money ; and speaking of what he is 
worth, takes into account nothing but his wealth ! 
There are some, too many, in whose eyes money, 
like charity, covereth a multitude of sins ; and 
who would esteem a piece of gilded fir more 
highly than odorous and imperishable cedar, or 
marble that vies with driven snow. But the 
poverty which incurs their contempt demeans no 
one in the sight of God. He is no respecter of 
persons. At His height, all ranks appear on a 
level ; and if there is any advantage, the poor 
have it, in a better chance, if I may say so, of 
getting to heaven than the rich. I go, said the 
dying Rutherford, when summoned in the king's 
name to appear before an earthly tribunal, to obey 
a higher summons ; I go to a place where there 
are few kings. And does not heaven open to the 
poor a refuge where there are few rich ? St. James 
asks — My beloved brethren, hath not God chosen 
the poor of this world, rich in faith and heirs of the 
kingdom ? And what said St. Paul ? — " God hath 
chosen the weak things of the world to confound 
the things which are mighty ; and base things of 

12 



I78 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

the world, and things which are despised, hath 
God chosen, and things which are not, to bring to 
nought things that are : that no flesh should glory 
in his presence." Let honest poverty then lift up 
its head ; next to infants, those unblown buds 
which the Lord has plucked to open out their 
beauties on His bosom in heaven, no class is so 
fully represented in the general assembly of the 
first-born as the poor. They not only form the 
largest class on earth, but by much the largest in 
that kingdom where, before Mary's Son, and by 
Mary's side, they may lift up her hymn, and sing 
— He hath put down the mighty from their seats, 
and exalted them of low degree ; He hath filled 
the hungry with good things, and the rich He hath 
sent empty away. 

Observe His enactments on behalf of the poor. 

A legal provision for the poor is no modern 
invention. It is a common notion that regular 
poor-laws date from the days of Elizabeth of 
England ; but it is a mistake. They are of much 
older date. A divine institution, they are found 
in that system of polity which God set up among 
His ancient people by the hands of His servant 
Moses. He did not leave His poor to depend 
altogether on the fits and chances of a precarious 
charity. One of the many provisions made to 
supply their wants, was lately brought to our 
recollection, when travelling through a valley, 
where embowering vines threw their clusters over 
the road ; and planted on rising terraces, occu- 
pied the sunny slopes of mountains that rose to 
skies of deepest blue — clothed with shaggy forests, 
and crowned with eternal snows. One of the 



THE POOR. 179 

guides, without consent asked or given, left the 
path, and, stepping into a vineyard by the way- 
side, plucked a rich bunch of grapes. The cus- 
toms of that country may, perhaps, permit a 
freedom with property which would not be toler- 
ated in ours. Standing on the extremest rights 
of mine and thine, we will send a poor vagrant 
child to jail for taking a turnip to satisfy his 
hunge-r ; but in the Holy, might I not add, and 
Happy Land, where God would have no man 
starve, the beggar, any hungry Israelite could 
take suoh freedoms without let or challenge. His 
hunger was his need, and God's law was his right 
to do so. "When thou goest," said the Lord, 
" into thy neighbor's vineyard, thou mayest eat 
grapes thy fill ; but thou shalt not put any in 
thy vessel ;" and so long as a poor man kept 
within this limit, he had full liberty to satisfy the 
wants of nature ; nor was branded as a thief for 
doing so. 

Another provision kindly and divinely estab- 
lished on behalf of the poor, in these good old 
times, was, though in the way of contrast, also 
recalled to our recollection on passing, one of 
these autumn days, a harvest-field at home. In 
a teethed machine, which, raking the stubble- 
land, gathered up the stalks of grain that the 
reapers had left, we saw a custom which God 
forbade on the soil that was trodden by a Re- 
deemer's feet. He, who reserved the seventh day 
to Himself, reserved, along with the standing 
corn that giew in the corners of the fields, the 
gleanings of the whole harvest for the exclusive 
use of the poor ; and thus p.11 those whom 



I8C MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

Ruth and Naomi represented — the widows of 
Israel, the fatherless, and the orphan — had a share 
of others' plenty, and their own joy in every 
harvest. 

Nor were the corners which the husbandman 
was forbidden to reap, and the gleanings of har- 
vests and vineyards which the proprietors were 
forbidden to gather, the only bounty which the 
earth poured into the lap of the poor ; and to 
which they had a legal and unchangeable claim. 
By God's express appointment, the land was to 
enjoy a sabbath once every seven years, during 
which the fields were to lie untilled, the olive- 
trees and vines to grow unpruned. Now, the 
whole produce of that sabbatical year belonged 
to the poor ; none of it to the proprietor. " Six 
years," said the Lord, " thou shalt sow thy land, 
and shalt gather in the fruits thereof: but the 
seventh year thou shalt let it rest and lie still ; 
that the poor of thy people may eat ; and what 
they leave the beasts of the field shall eat. In 
like manner thou shalt deal with thy vineyard and 
with thy oliveyard." God's care of His poor, like 
a mother's for her babe, extended even to what 
might be considered minute and trivial matters. 
The rich were forbidden to make any charge for 
money lent to a poor man ; and if his necessities 
obliged him to pledge bed or garment, God took 
care that he should not suffer for it. Many a 
poor wretch in our cities is left with his children 
to shiver through cold winter nights, while their 
blankets are locked up in the broker's store. 
Better care was taken of an unfortunate Israelite. 
"In any case," said the Lord, "thou shalt deliver 



THE POOR. l8l 

him the pledge when the sun goeth down, that he 
may sleep in his own raiment." 

Stern and severe as were some aspects of the 
Mosaic law, it looked kindly upon poverty. That 
law treated it not as a crime, but as a misfortune 
deserving the tenderest compassion. And though 
not required to copy its details, ought we not to 
preserve their spirit ; and in dealing with honest 
poverty, meet it in the benevolent spirit of the 
commandment, " If thy brother be waxen poor, 
and fallen in decay with thee, then thou shalt 
relieve him, though he be a stranger or a so- 
journer, that he may live with thee"? No man 
can read these old laws, so full of tender care and 
regard for the poor, without seeing the point 
and feeling the power of the apostle's question, 
" Whoso hath this world's good, and seeth his 
brother in need, and shutteth up his bowels of 
compassion from him, how dwelleth the love of 
God in him ?" Let us then, as St. John says, " not 
love in word, neither in tongue ; but in deed and 
in truth." 

Observe His judgments for the wrongs of the poor. 

Thy holy cities are a wilderness, Zion is a 
wilderness, Jerusalem a desolation ; our holy and 
our beautiful house, where our fathers praised 
thee, is burned up with fire ; all our pleasant 
things are laid waste. So spake Isaiah, looking 
with prophetic eye on the future, where he saw 
the grass grow rank on the city's untrodden 
streets, and the fox looking out of the temple 
window, and satyrs dancing in the holy place — 
the shrine deserted, its lamp extinguished, and 
the ashes of its altar cold. And what dreadful 



182 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

sins were those which brought down such judg- 
ments on a guilty land — moving God to cast 
away His people as a loathsome thing, and make 
them a by-word, and a proverb, and a hissing on 
the earth ? — Sabbath-breaking, idolatry, drunken- 
ness, loose-living ? — Yes ; these, but others also ; 
wrongs inflicted on the poor. Hear how these 
bold and bearded prophets speak — " The spoil of 
the poor is in your houses " — as it is, now, in 
every house where a fortune has been built on 
their ruins. Again, " Ye grind the faces of the 
poor," — as is done still, when advantage is taken 
of his necessities to deny the laborer a fair day's 
wage for a fair day's work. Again, " They buy 
the poor for silver, and the needy for a pair of 
shoes," — crimes perpetrated, high treason against 
God committed, as it were but yesterday, yonder 
where, under the flag of liberty with its brave 
motto, All men are born free, the hammer of the 
auction-room knocked down men and women for 
so many hundred dollars. These old preachers, 
asserting the sanctity and liberty of the pulpit, 
deemed it their right, and used it as a privilege, 
to proclaim from that place of truth the wrongs 
of the poor, and the judgment of their oppressors. 
Inspired of God, they were fearless of man. Hear 
how they spake to the times : "Is it," they asked, 
speaking in their Master's name, " such a fast that 
I have chosen — a day for a man to afflict his soul ? 
to bow down his head as a bulrush ; to spread sack- 
cloth and ashes under him ? Wilt thou call this 
a fast, and an acceptable day to the Lord ? Is 
not this the fast that I have chosen ? To loose 
the bands of wickedness, to undo the heavy 



THE POOR. I S3 

burdens, and to let the oppressed go free, and that 
ye break every yoke ? Is it not to deal thy 
bread to the hungry, and to bring the poor that 
are cast out into thy house ? when thou seest the 
naked, that thou cover him, and that thou hide 
not thyself from thine own flesh ?" This is not 
done. Many of our poor go hungry and houseless. 
Stretching themselves upon their couches, eat- 
ing the lambs out of the flock, and the calves out 
of the midst of the stall, chanting to the sound of 
the viol, drinking wine in bowls, anointing them- 
selves with the chief ointments, and not grieved 
for the affliction of Joseph, — many, realizing this 
voluptuous picture, leave the poor to herd in 
filthy dens ; and out of houses not fit for human 
being, not compatible with health, or decency, or 
virtue, come swarms of ragged, uncared-for, and 
uneducated children, to turn the tread-mill, and 
feed the prison. It is not for us to scan the ways 
of Providence, but the dying echoes of past judg- 
ments sound us a solemn, may it be a timely 
warning. What shall be, says the wise man, is 
that which hath already been. The wrongs of 
the poor have a way of avenging themselves. Ne- 
glected poverty may rise some day like the blind, 
strong man to pull down the prosperity and pillars 
of the land ; and when no Joseph shall appear in 
providence to avert the impending evil, a worse 
future may come than was foreshadowed in royal 
dreams, when, in visions of the night, Pharaoh 
saw the seven lean kine eat up the seven fat. It 
is with judgments God arms Himself, when He 
says, " For the oppression of the poor, for the 
sighing of the needy, now will I arise, saith the 



1 84 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

Lord." See how, in this terrible aspect, He 
arose in that land from whose shores Atlantic 
waves lately wafted the boom of cannon to our 
own. Would that after the roar of that fratri- 
cidal war, America may hear the voice of rebuke, 
sounding down from the throne of God ! Un- 
doing the heavy burdens, and letting the op- 
pressed go free, out of the broken fetters of 
emancipated slaves, let her make a lightning- 
conductor to turn away the bolts of a righteous, 
roused, and angry God ! Then, in the beautiful 
words of the prophet, " shall her light break forth 
as the morning, and her health spring forth 
speedily, and the glory of the Lord shall be her 
rear-ward, and her darkness shall be as the noon- 
day — and she shall be like a watered garden, and 
like a spring of water whose waters fail not." 

Observe how Jesus showed His care for the poor. 

The poor, He said, ye have always with you, 
and whensoever ye will ye may do them good- 
repeating in substance God's much older words, 
" The poor shall never cease out of the land ; 
therefore I command thee, saying, Thou shalt 
open thy hand wide unto thy brother ; to thy 
poor ; and to thy needy in the land." How 
beautifully this divine tenderness to the poor 
comes out welling and warm, in the very terms 
applied to them ; it is not, if a man or woman — 
but if a brother or sister be naked — thou shalt open 
thy hand wide unto thy brother. 

In dealing with the poor we are not, however, 
to put all over in the same boat — huddling to- 
gether the good and bad, virtue and vice, decent 
age and hoary sin in our plans, as is done in our 



THE POOR. l8j 

poorhouses. There is no line of separation be- 
tween peer and peasant so broad as divides the 
two classes of the poor. There are God's poor, 
whose cause I chiefly plead. These, reduced to 
want, brought to suffering by no feult of theirs, 
have the strongest, at any rate the first, claim on 
our compassion. There are the poor of provi- 
dence ; and a much more numerous class, the 
poor of improvidence — the devil's poor, who, 
reaping as they have sowed, and drinking as they 
have brewed, are suffering under these righteous 
laws : " He becometh poor that dealeth with a 
slack hand ;" " If any will not work, neither 
should he eat ;" " He that loveth pleasure shall 
be a poor man." None are in some respects, I 
admit, greater objects of compassion than these. 
It is pitiable to see the wrecks of comfort, and 
decency, and humanity, that go drifting about 
our streets. How foul and forbidding with the 
rags that vice has hung on their back, and the 
wolfish look that want has given their faces ! Yet 
many of them were once bright and sunny chil- 
dren ; dandled on a father's knee ; and sung to 
sleep by kind mothers, who, putting their little in- 
nocent hands together, taught their infant lips to 
pray. We are not to loathe them ; nor will, if we 
remember that they cannot be so black or so bad 
in our eyes as we were in God's when He gave up 
His dear Son to save us. Yet how profoundly are 
they to be pitied ! They have got to the dregs of 
their cup ; and how bitter they are ! They dare 
not look back on the past, with its recollections of 
early innocence, a virtuous home, and the vener- 
able image of a mother or father, whose gray hairs 



tS6 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

they brought in sorrow to the grave ; nor dare 
they look forward on the future ; and unless re- 
ligion come to their help, what will they or can 
they do, but " drink to forget their poverty, and 
remember their misery no more ?" What else are 
you to expect of impiety under sufferings greater 
than wrung from God's servant the cry, " Oh, that 
my mother had been my grave ; wherefore came I 
from the womb, that my days should be consumed 
with shame ?" Theirs is not the poverty that has 
wealth in heaven, and, touched by lights from an- 
other and better world, is a cloud that wears silver 
edges ; nor is theirs the cup that faith sweetens 
with the promise of all things working together 
for good. Without God or hope, they are the 
poorest of the poor ; and claim in a sense our 
deepest and holiest compassions. 

Still, our compassion must never take the shape 
of a bounty on idleness and vice. Such philan- 
thropy is mischievous ; and finds not the sem- 
blance of encouragement in our Lord's example. 
He went about doing good ; and chiefly in the 
walks of the poor. But how ? He restored health 
to sickness, vigor to the withered arm, sight to 
the blind, speech to the dumb, hearing to the deaf, 
reason to the insane ; and, doing so, taught us the 
wise charity that helps a poor man to help himself. 
He did not maintain the poor in idleness, but sent 
them back with renovated powers to their different 
fields of labor. It is as instructive as it is remark- 
able, that on only two occasions did our Lord 
create food ; and money only on one — leaving the 
law of God not only to its righteous but beneficent 
course, " in the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat 



THE POOR. 187 

bread." Not even in the days when He scattered 
miracles around Him in divine profusion, did He 
anything to counteract the lesson of those won- 
drous years when His neighbors heard the car- 
penter early at His bench ; and honest labor 
sharpened His appetite and sweetened His simple 
fare ; and at every week's end, a pattern of filial 
duty and model to our youths, He poured His 
earnings into a mother's lap. 

While our Lord, employing His miraculous 
powers to help the poor to help themselves, 
showed them the wisest and truest kindness, He 
forgot not, even in His narrow and straitened cir- 
cumstances, the claims of a helpless poverty. It 
is evident that the bag which Judas carried served 
a double purpose ; the poor had their share of its 
scanty store. The patriarch says, I did not eat 
my morsel alone. No more did Jesus — with this 
difference, that Job was rich, but Jesus was poor. 
Yet what He had, He gave. Ay, His generosity 
but dimly shadowed forth by the widow who " of 
her want did cast in all she had, even all her 
living ;" He gave not His living but His life for 
a greater poverty than stands in ragged beggar 
at our door ; He made Himself poor that He 
might make us rich ; He poured out His soul unto 
death — dying, the Just for the unjust, that He 
might bring us to God. 



1 88 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 



I&huniv. 

"If a brother or sister be naked, and destitute of daily food, and om 
of you say unto them, Depart in peace, be ye warmed and filled ; not- 
withstanding ye gwe them not those things which are nevdful to the 
body ; what doth it profit ?"— St. Jambs ii. 15, 16. 

An Arab possessed a horse so famous far and 
near for its beauty, gentleness, and matchless 
speed, that he had many tempting offers to part 
with her. He refused them all ; and, in particular, 
the repeated solicitations of one who offered an 
enormous price. One day, as, with head wrapped 
in mantle and lance at rest, he was pressing home- 
wards through the burning desert, his horse sud- 
denly started ; and there, right across the path, lay 
a poor traveller — alive, for he groaned ; but 
exhausted, and apparently at the point of death. 
Like the good Samaritan — for, though fierce, these 
wild Bedouins have savage virtues, are hospitable 
and friendly — he dismounted, and finding the 
unfortunate traveller unable to walk or even to 
stand, set him in his own saddle. No sooner done 
than, as if the vigor of the steed had been imparted 
to its rider, the bowed and languid form became 
instantly erect ; the horse suddenly wheeled round, 
sprang off to the stroke, and a laugh of triumph 
revealed the trick. The man who had offered him 
an enormous price for the horse was on her back. 



CHARITY. 189 

Assuming the guise of distress, he had taken advan- 
tage of the other's generous feelings, to steal what 
he could not buy. The injured man did not curse 
him ; nor, fortified by the stoicism which the 
Mohammedans' belief in fate imparts, merely bow 
his head to the misfortune. He soared above it to 
a height of moral grandeur which few reach. Cal- 
ling on the other to halt, he said that he had one 
favor to ask ; it was this, that he would never tell 
how he had won the horse, because, were that 
known, it might hinder some from receiving help 
in circumstances of danger not feigned, but real — 
and so doom the unfortunate to perish. It is but 
justice to human nature to add — what indeed shows 
that fine feelings may lie dormant in the worst of 
men — that the other was so touched by the unsel- 
fishness and nobility of this appeal, that he relented ; 
and, riding up to the man he had wronged, gave 
him back his horse. 

Human nature is a plant that, unchanged by 
climate, color, or circumstances, presents the same 
characters, and bears the same fruit, amid the 
smoke of crowded cities as in the lonely desert. 
And this appeal of the Arab, in the advantage so 
often taken of our kindness, in the bad persons on 
whom it is bestowed, and the bad uses to which it 
is turned, touches what forms the greatest obstruc- 
tion to the flow of charity, and our ready, literal 
obedience to the precept — " Deal out thy bread to 
the hungry ; if thou seest the naked, clothe him, 
and bring the poor that are cast out into thy 
house." But because others do ill, is no reason 
why we should cease to do well. The case is one 
to which the apostle's words are specially appro- 



#90 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

priate, " Be not weary in well-doing." This leads 
us to remark — 

That the abuse of our charity should never dry 
up our hearts. 

Who is David, and who is the soil of Jesse ? 
so Nabal replied to David's appeal for help, at the 
time he and his men were hiding in the wilderness 
of Paran — adding, by way of reason, this reproach 
to refusal, " There be many servants now-a-days 
that break away every man from his master." Per- 
haps there were. The earthquake that casts towers 
and castles to the ground, brings vile reptiles out 
of it ; the storm that sinks the noblest ships, throws 
sea-weeds and wrack upon the shore ; and the 
political convulsions of Nabal's time, producing 
corresponding effects, had very probably thrown 
the dregs of society, like scum, to the surface ; and 
relaxing the bonds of order set loose bands of 
marauders on the land. These supplied the sordid 
churl with an excuse for refusing David ; and so 
does the abuse of our charity those who seek to 
throw over their covetousness the cloak of some 
decent pretext. Theirs is never abused ; their 
excuse but the sound of a hollow heart, the rattle 
that a withered kernel makes within its shell. I do 
not now address myself to these, beyond reminding 
them of the solemn, awful, warning words, " Your 
gold and silver is cankered, and the rust of them 
shall be a witness against you, and shall eat your 
flesh as it were fire." 

But there are many who feel for the poor. They 
would gladly relieve their wants. They are pained 
to see these wretched mothers, and yet more 
wretched children ; but having found their charity 



CHARITY. 191 

often misapplied and thrown away on the unworthy 
and ungrateful, they are afraid to give ; and not sel- 
dom tempted, on discovering how they have been 
imposed upon, to say in their haste as David did in 
his, All men are liars ! But if charity often fails 
in its object, so do other things. The sun shines 
on many a fair blossom that never turns into fruit, 
and the clouds pour their bounties on fields that 
yield no harvest. But to leave figures for facts. 
Education, as well as charity, often fails : it is but 
a small proportion of children that become ripe 
scholars. Moral training fails ; how many parents, 
besides David, have had their hearts wounded and 
torn by wicked children ! The labors of husbandry 
fail ; it is but a proportion of the seed that springs ; 
and a still less proportion that, reaching maturity, 
in golden sheaves reward? the farmer's toil. Phy- 
sic fails ; diseases rage, and patients die in spite of 
it. Even the pulpit fails ; but what preacher thinks 
of abandoning it, because many of his sermons do 
no good ; nay, like abused charity, do positive harm 
— hardening those they fail to soften, and making 
people as indifferent to the most solemn things as 
a hoary sexton to the mouldering remnants of mor- 
tality, the skulls he tosses out of the grave ? 

Man is answerable for duty ; but not for results. 
And as with faith in a promised blessing, we are 
always to preach, in season and out of season, to 
sow beside all waters, you arc never to cease your 
charities. Let not the cold ingratitude of other 
hearts freeze your own. Ingratitude ! Abuse of 
mercies ! Who met so much of these as our 
blessed Lord ? Yet the fountains of His heart 
were ever full, and, till that heart was broken, 



192 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

never ceased to flow. His miracles yielded no 
adequate return ; nor out of thousands to whose 
limbs they had given vigor, whose tongues they 
had loosed, on whose blind eyes they had poured 
light, brought one, so much as one, to cry, Crucify 
him not. Yet His works of beneficence were like 
a river that, breaking over every obstacle, and in 
its ample flood, burying the stones that would 
impede its course, widens as it runs, and is largest 
at the beach where it is lost in the sea. So let it 
be with our sympathies and charities ! May our 
hearts, with advancing age, grow less sour and 
more sweet, less hard and more tender, like 
downy peach or golden apple that ripens to its 
fall. 

Our charity should be discriminating. 

Discriminating, first, as to its objects. The 
"household of the faith" have a prior claim on 
Christians. " If thy brother or sister be naked 
and destitute of daily food " — thy brother, thy 
sister, these tender expressions apply to them 
in a holy and peculiar sense. Next come others ; 
and last, but not to be omitted, our enemies. 
We never rise so high above ourselves, and so 
near to God as in yielding obedience to these 
wonderful divine words — If thine enemy hunger, 
feed him ; if he thirst, give him drink ; for in 
so doing thou shalt heap coals of fire upon his 
head. 

Careful discrimination is required also both in 
what wc give, and how we give. This is implied 
in the words, Blessed is the man that considereth 
the poor ; and is brought out fully by those who 
turned these psalms into rhyme ; 



CHARITY. I93 

" Blessed is he that wisely doth 
The poor man's case considor.'" 

This is true of public charity. The poor man's 
case has not been always wisely considered. Very 
much the reverse. Listen, for example, to this 
description of the old Poor-laws of England. 
" The pauper was led to think that the Govern- 
ment had undertaken to repeal the ordinary laws 
of nature ; that children should not suffer for the 
misconduct of their parents, nor the wife for that 
of her husband ; and that no one should lose the 
means of subsistence whatever might be his indol- 
ence, prodigality, or vice. They offered food to 
the idle, and impunity to the profligate." And 
out of those convents that swarm with lazy monks 
and idle nuns, where shall we find more question- 
able, and, in many of their results, more pernicious 
charities than the splendid hospitals that rise 
around our city ? These, not like its old walls, 
a defence, are monuments of the folly, if not of 
the vanity of their founders. There they stand, 
tempting parents to cast on cold officials the 
loving burden which God lays on a father's back 
and in a mother's bosom. Moses might never 
have been the man he was unless he had been 
nursed by his own mother. How many celebrated 
men have owed their greatness and their goodness 
to a mother's training ! What is the law of nature ? 
God has committed children to the care of their 
parents, and the care of parents to their children ; 
and the charity that interferes with this law of 
Providence is the parent of evils far greater than 
it cures. In Scotland, the people once were poor, 

13 



194 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

but not mean ; and if our countrymen were pro- 
verbial for pride and poverty, it was the pride, if 
such term could be applied to a feeling so noble, 
which made sons and daughters work late and 
early, walk in sober gray, and live on the hardest 
fare to keep a venerable and venerated parent off 
the poor's-roll. For the aged man or mother 
there was always a corner, and that the warmest 
in the cottage, where one whose infancy they had 
nursed tenderly watched their declining years. 
Within these homes, sacred to filial piety, I have 
seen a lovely counterpart to the scene without, 
where the ivy which once found support in old 
wall or hollow tree, now embracing, supports it in 
its turn, and covers its hoar decay with a graceful 
and glossy mantle. Honor to the humblest home 
whose thatch covers a parent's head ; where daily 
toil is cheerfully borne to obey the precept that 
finds an echo in our hearts, " Honor thy father 
and thy mother, that thy days may be long in the 
land which the Lord thy God giveth thee !" 

Discrimination as to whom, and what, and how 
we give, is also necessary in the distribution of 
private charity. St. Giles, the patron saint of our 
city, in devout imitation of Him who made Him- 
self poor to make us rich, is said to have sold all 
his property for the benefit of the poor, — to feed 
the hungry and clothe the naked. And what were 
the result if any of us should blindly follow his 
example, and pour our fortunes into the lap of the 
parish that bears the old saint's name ? What 
good would it do the haggard men and women 
that there and elsewhere swarm so foul and thick 
from this rocky castle to yonder silent palace ? 



CHARITY. 195 

We should make ourselves poor, but, alas ! not 
them rich. They owe their poverty to intemper- 
ance and improvidence ; and a stream of money 
turned on them being less like water poured on a 
sand-bed than oil on raging flames, would but 
increase their wretchedness, and feed the vices 
that have hung them in rags. "It came to pass 
that the beggar died, and was carried by the 
angels into Abraham's bosom ;" but now-a-days 
rags are more frequently than otherwise the devil's 
livery. 

The love of drink is "the root of all evil." In 
an obscure and wretched close you have lighted 
on a decent and devout widow, with no cordial 
by her dying bed but a cup of water. Happy to 
find such a person there, as a flower blooming in 
the desert, you hasten to minister to her neces- 
sities ; these words of Jesus sounding in your ears. 
" Inasmuch as ye did it unto one of the least of 
them, ye did it unto me." But the wine given to 
touch dying lips a wretched daughter turns to 
another purpose ; so one day, when engaged in 
prayer, the opening of a door, thick and strange 
mutterings, a reeling step, the noise of one falling, 
induce you to open your eyes — and there, before 
you, on the same bed, lies a dying mother and 
a dead-drunk child. You have often climbed the 
stair to read and pray by the bed of a woman 
who talks religiously ; and whose sickly husband, 
and pale, ill-fed, ill-clad children, have drawn out 
your bounty. Circumstances occur to excite sus- 
picion, — suspicions darken, deepen ; and one day, 
from beneath a pillow, on which her head and 
God's Word lie, you drag the evil to light, — draw 



I96 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

out the drunkard's bottle. Away, high up in a 
garret room, you find a young man, sinking under 
a slow decline, and shivering beneath a thin, 
thread-bare coverlet, in the cold that blows keen 
through patched and broken window. You try to 
raise his thoughts to the Saviour and the house of 
many mansions ; and leave to send warm coverings 
for his emaciated form. Before your return, that 
wretched apartment has seen a terrible struggle. 
Turning a deaf ear to his pitiful cries, unmoved 
by the tears on his hectic cheek, his father and 
mother have pulled the blankets from his body ; 
and sold them for drink. I speak what I know ; 
what my own eyes have seen, and ears have 
heard. These are examples of the difficulties that 
beset the feet of charity, and teach the necessity 
of discrimination, if we would not increase the 
evils we attempt to alleviate. 

Nor is that all. What we bestow on idleness or 
on vice is so much taken from the worthy poor. 
They have the first claim on what we can spare ; 
and to throw away our means on others is to de- 
fraud the widow, the orphan, and poor, innocent, 
suffering children. It is, therefore, our duty to 
meet improvidence and intemperance sternly — no 
doubt with Christian pity, but that mingled with 
the indignation due to those who are not so much 
robbing us, or the rich, as heartlessly plundering 
the worthy poor. There are such — many worthy 
poor. We should seek them out; and it should 
be our happiness to contribute to theirs. Let us 
earn for ourselves what is better than gold that 
perisheth — the blessing of them that are ready to 
perish — a character such as His, who, at once the 



CHARITY. 19* 

painter and the subject, has left us in this likeness 
of Himself the most beautiful portrait of man, 
"When the ear heard me, then it blessed me; 
when the eye saw me, it gave witness of me. I 
was eyes to the blind, and feet to the lame. I 
delivered the poor that cried ; the fatherless 
and him that had none to help him. The bless- 
ing of him that was ready to perish came upon 
me ; and I caused the widow's heart to sing for 
joy." 

Charity brings its reward— first in this world. 

While there is no class more tender-hearted 
than physicians, I have observed that people who 
live amid their comforts, and are seldom brought 
into relationship with suffering, are apt to grow 
selfish. In such circumstances our nature, like a 
single tree that stands out in the open field, grows 
dwarfed and gnarled. Indeed, just as without sin 
the character of God had not been fully developed, 
nor shone forth full-orbed — merciful and gracious, 
as well as great and holy, it is difficult to see how, 
without the presence of suffering, helplessness, and 
poverty, our nature could have been brought 
out in some of its most attractive aspects. Sym- 
pathy with suffering, as well as our sense of what 
is right and wrong, separates us by an immeasur- 
able distance from the lower animals. It presents 
one of the truest and noblest characteristics of 
humanity. The pampered dog never turns a 
piteous eye on some lean, and hungry, and house- 
less fellow ; but, growling at his approach, and 
rushing open-mouthed to the assault, drives him 
from the door. It is fellow-feeling, not mere 
feeling that raises a man above a beast. It is 



I98 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

that which allies us to the angels who take a 
lively interest in mundane affairs, and, watching 
the struggle between good and evil, fill heaven 
with joy as often as the battle goes for Christ, and 
a sinner is saved. And those gentle sympathies 
and kindly feelings which the abodes of poverty 
awaken, are means whereby the Spirit of God 
softens us — moulding the plastic heart into the 
likeness of that blessed Saviour who is " touched 
with a feeling of our infirmities," and of that 
blessed God who is " very pitiful and of great 
mercy." 

The hammer and the iron are both hardened 
by the same stroke. So is the heart that, deny- 
ing pity, does a cruel thing, and the heart that 
denied suffers it. But acts of kindness improve 
the morale both of him who gives, and of him who 
gets. Indeed, it is both a sad and a lightsome 
thing to visit the dwellings of the poor. It clears 
our sky of vapors. We return more contented 
and happy ; much stouter to endure the petty 
troubles of our own lot — seeing how comfortable 
our circumstances are compared with those of 
others, and how many would be glad to exchange 
condition and cup with us. 

Next to peace with God, through our Lord 
Jesus Christ, there is no higher happiness on earth 
than lies in making others happy ; nor is man 
ever so gracious and God-like as when shedding 
brightness and blessings around him. There is 
no flower in gay parterre so beautiful as the roses 
that grow on an orphan's cheek ; no sunshine like 
the smile of a happy face ; no sound of woman's 
voice, or lute or harp of sweetest strings, so full of 



CHARITY. I99 

music as the singing of a widow s heart ; no jewel 
on queenly brows so brilliant as the tear in eyes 
we have lighted with gratitude and joy. Yes — 
it is more blessed to give than to receive ; and 
these beautiful lines apply as well to charity as to 
mercy : 

" It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven 
Upon the place beneath. It is twice bless* d. 
It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes." 

Charity brings its reward in another world. 

Some of the greatest masters have given us pic- 
tures of the Last Judgment ; placing Him whom 
they had often painted dying on His cross amid 
a crowd of enemies, high above another crowd — 
crowned and seated on a great white throne. 
Around Him are the host of heaven, and stretch- 
ing away into distant space are the hosts of 
heaven, His angel train. Before Him is the 
world ; a vast assembly where, all on one level, 
stand kings and beggars, priests and people, the 
master and his slave, men and women, childhood 
and old age. Their attire, or some other expe- 
dient of the painter's, reveals what had been their 
condition ; their place, and the passions on their 
faces, what it is. Here, on the right hand, some 
arc on their knees, adoring — some forms stretch 
upv/ard with eager arms — some strike golden 
harps — some are waving palms of victory ; but 
all, with their eyes fixed on Jesus, look as if they 
had never sinned nor sorrowed. God has wiped 
away all tears from all eyes ; and their beautiful 
faces so serene, so pure, so radiant with heavenly 
joy inspire the wish as we gaze on the picture, 



200 MAN AND THE GOSPEL. 

Their place be mine ! may I die the death of the 
righteous ; and may my last end be like His ! 

Between these and those on the left, what a con- 
trast ! how great a gulf ! Despair, horror, agony, 
are depicted in their looks ; driven downward by 
armed angels, they fall headlong into the hell that 
opens its fiery mouth to receive them ; while above 
their wail we seem to hear the words of Jesus, 
as, waving them away, He says, with a touch of 
sadness in His voice, " Depart from me, ye cursed, 
into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his 
angels !" These pictures, though often studied as 
mere works of art, are great sermons. Like Jonah 
on the streets of Nineveh, they might arrest the 
feet of busy crowds, as they cry from the walls 
where they hung, Remember that thou must die, 
and after death the judgment. 

The picture on which I would fix your eyes is 
one of Christ's own painting. It sets before us 
not so much the scene as the ground of the last 
judgment. The multitude are parted into two 
great classes — at the close of the day to be for ever 
parted. " These " — I quote our Lord's own words ; 
the everlasting is not mine, but His — " these," 
proving that no stern prophet ever spake such 
awful truths as the Saviour's own gentle lips, 
— " these go away into everlasting punishment, 
but the righteous into life eternal." Momentous 
verdicts ! changeless destinies ! On what pivot do 
they turn ? on this, feeding the hungry, clothing 
the naked, visits to the sick and to the prisoner in 
his lonely cell. The tree is known by its fruit. 
Unhappy trees on which Christ, coming to seek 
such fruit, finds none ! I am not saying that we 



CHARITY. SOt 

are not to contend earnestly for the faith once de- 
livered to the saints ; or that there is no import- 
ance in creeds, or difference between churches ; 
or that if people are sincere, it is of no conse- 
quence what they believe ; or that there is any 
other name given under heaven whereby we can 
be saved but the name of Jesus. I have no 
hope but His cross. I may give all my goods to 
feed the poor, and my body to be burned ; yet 
if I have not love, it profiteth me nothing. Still 
our Lord exalts charity to the poor into a test 
of piety — of living, saving faith. Identifying 
Himself with them, He says, " Inasmuch as yc 
did or did it not unto one of the least of these, 
ye did or did it not to me !" David returned to 
Saul, bringing the giant's head ; the spies came 
back to Moses, loaded with grapes from Eshcol ; 
Jesus ascended to His Father, bearing in His hand 
the soul of the thief, blood-won trophy of His 
victory ; one has said that Wilberforce went up to 
God, taking with him the broken fetters of eight 
hundred thousand slaves. What proofs of true 
piety shall we carry to heaven ? What works will 
follow us ? Shall widows and orphans, the wretched 
and the ragged, coming from homes which our 
bounty has blessed, and our prayers have sancti- 
fied, though not our saviours — " for there is one 
God, and one Mediator between God and men, 
the man Christ Jesus " — be our witnesses ? May 
their testimony, that the same mind was in us that 
was in Christ, call down on us this gracious ap- 
proving sentence, "Well done, good and faithful 
servant ; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord," 



OUR FATHER'S BUSINESS 



OUR FATHER'S BUSINESS. 



»?•*> 



The alarm, A child lost ! — like the cry, A man 
overboard ! — is one that goes to all hearts. I 
have known it stop the business, and engross 
all the interests of a rural neighborhood. Leaving 
the shuttle on the loom, their cattle in the field, 
and ploughs standing idle in the furrow, while 
women wept and hoped and feared and prayed, 
men, — some on horseback and some on foot, — 
scoured the country ; nor ceased at nightfall, but, 
with shouts and gleaming torches, pursued their 
search through trackless moor and forest. Even 
in cities, where there is less community of feeling, 
like a rock that, lifting up its head mid-river, 
and disturbing its even flow, stays for a moment 
the rush of waters, a lost child sobbing, crying 
in the street arrests the stream of passengers, 
and moves all to pity, — even those who have but 
time to ask, What is it ? as, casting a kind glance 
on the distracted creature, they hurry on. There 
is a sight more touching than a child crying for 
its mother. It is a mother, flying through the 



206 OUR FATHER'S business. 

streets with dishevelled hair and panting bosom, 
pallor on her cheek and terror in her eye, who 
cries for her child ; while fancy, conjuring up all 
manner of horrid evils, with pictures of its dead 
form or unpitied sufferings, wrings her heart and 
almost shakes her reason. 

Such a sight, when the crowds who had gathered 
from all parts of the country, and of the world 
indeed, taking their departure, had left Jerusalem 
to comparative repose, awakened the kind interest 
of many there. People had met such a woman 
at the dead of night ; and had seen her by day 
going up and down the city addressing eager 
inquiries both to acquaintances and strangers, — 
looking more haggard and feeling more hopeless 
as the weary hours wore on, that gladdened her 
with neither sight nor tidings of her son. That 
woman was Mary, our Lord's mother. Three 
days has she sought Jesus ; and nothing now 
remains to do but turn to God. All other, all 
earthly hope has failed her. Wan and weary, 
supported by the kind man and husband who 
had shared her sorrows, she turns her faltering 
steps to the house of God. She will cast her 
burden on the Lord, and commit her lost one 
to the care of His heavenly and only Father. 
And a mother who had more than any other 
a right to do so, and betake herself to that refuge 
in the hour of trouble, we seem to hear her saying 

I to the hills will lift mine eyes, 
From whence doth come mine aid ; 

My safety cometh from the Lord, 
Who heaven and earth hath made. 



OUR MODEL. 207 

Staggering beneath her burden as much, perhaps, 
as Abraham when, to his amazement and conster- 
nation and horror, God addressed the patriarch, 
saving, " Take now thy son, thine only son Isaac, 
whom thou lovest, and offer him for a burnt- 
offering on a mountain that I will tell thee of," 
Mary enters the Temple with faith and foot 
faltering. What a revulsion of feeling at the sight 
which meets her astonished eyes ! Ready to sink 
to the ground under the sudden emotion, she can 
hardly believe them. Is it a vision ? Does she 
dream ? No. Tis He — the very form, face, and 
voice of Jesus, her own lost and long-sought 
son. The centre of all eyes, of a crowd that 
hushed to silence regard Him with gaping wonder, 
— wiser than the wisest, more subtle than the 
subtlest, He sits there among gray-haired elders, 
asking and answering questions. 

Happy mother ! whom we expect to see, regard- 
less of all forms and of any presence, rush forward 
under the impulses of affection to throw her arms 
around her child, and cover him with impassioned 
kisses. But what strangely constituted creatures 
we are ! We swing of a sudden, like a pendulum, 
from one state of feeling to another, and that 
perhaps the very opposite ; as I once happened to 
see illustrated by a mother who had dared, and 
done a noble deed. Our horses suddenly turning 
a corner, were going down at full gallop on a child 
that sat, heedless of danger, right in their path. 
To rein them in was impossible. Its death seemed 
inevitable ; and we sat transfixed with horror to see 
it trodden beneath their hoofs, crushed below the 
wheels. At that fearful moment, a woman, stooping 



208 OUR FATHER'S BUSINESS. 

like a hawk on its prey, darted from a doorway 
across the road, and with the hot breath of our 
horses on her pallid cheek, plucked her infant from 
among their feet. It was bravely done. But what 
a strange revulsion of feeling succeeded her mortal 
fright ? She did not, as we expected, clasp the 
child to her beating bosom, cover it with kisses, 
or drop on her knees to give thanks to God for her 
own and its hairbreadth escape. The feeling of 
terror suddenly gave p*ace to a violent burst of 
anger ; and, resenting the alarm the child had 
given her, she gave it a sound, sharp beating. 

In this incident we found a key to explain what 
had always seemed the strange conduct of Jesus' 
mother on finding her son ; and, also, what we 
have ever since regarded as one of the many 
indirect evidences, but of all the most satisfactory, 
of the truth of Scripture. In the hands of a 
novelist, for example, the part Mary acted would 
have assumed a quite different character. What 
a pathetic scene we should have had ? — the mother 
in transports of gratitude throwing herself on her 
knees, and rising in transports of joy to throw her- 
self on the neck of her child, and cry as she clasped 
him to her beating bosom: "My son that was 
dead is alive again, that was lost is found !" Far 
more true to nature — as I saw her on her trial — the 
evangelist shows us Mary acting another part ; 
displaying no such dramatic pathos. In her, as in 
that other mother, anger, or a feeling akin to it, 
seems to have suddenly succeeded to terror ; and 
going up to Jesus, not to fall on His neck and kiss 
Him, but to complain of the fright He has given her, 
with, I cannot help fancying, displeasure in her 



OUR MODEL. 20g 

look, and harshness in her tones, she addresses Him, 
saying, " Son, why hast thou thus dealt with us ? 
behold, thy father and I have sought thee sorrow- 
ing." A sharp question this. In reply, Jesus, with 
mingled looks of love and dignity, turns to Mary, 
and, fixing on her those eyes which penetrated 
others' thoughts, but had often strange, deep, 
mysterious meanings of their own, He gently re- 
monstrates, saying, " How is it that ye sought me ? 
wist ye not that I must be about my Father's busi- 
ness f" Though not intended on her son's part, 
Mary may possibly have felt in this reply the sharp 
edge of a rebuke. No wonder at least that on 
receiving such an answer from the lips of such a 
child, for Jesus was then but twelve years old, 
she was struck with it, pondered it, tried to sound 
its depths, and, waiting for further light on its 
mysterious meanings, kept it in her heart. So 
may we keep it in ours ; not, however, as a mystery, 
but a truth ; signally illustrated and fully explained 
by the consecration of Christ's labors, and life, 
and death to the glory of God and the salvation 
of men. This was His Father's business. And in 
dedicating His life to such lofty purposes, Jesus 
supplies us with a model on which to fashion our 
own. 

This is of the highest importance ; what concerns 
the end and manner of our life being of far more 
consequence than anything that belongs to the 
nature and circumstances of our death. It is 
natural, I admit, to take a lively interest in the 
scenes of the dying chamber, the expressions and 
experience of departing saints ; yet so little coun- 
tenance does this feeling receive from Scripture 

U 



2IO OUR FATHER'S BUSINESS. 

that the Bible, which contains a pretty full account 
of the lives of many saints, is, in almost every 
instance, silent on the subject of their deaths. One 
after another, they appear on the stage to play 
their different parts. But the curtain usually drop? 
as the last act begins ; and the saint vanishes from 
sight with some such brief, simple record as this : 
"he died," or "he was gathered to his fathers" 01 
" angels carried him to Abraham's bosom." In 
regard to this, one cannot but be struck with the 
marked difference between God's lives of the saints 
and those which man writes — in fact, most of our 
biographies. And may not the manner in which 
the Bible drops a veil over the last scene be in- 
tended to warn us against attaching much import- 
ance to dying frames — to teach us this great lesson, 
that, in all but a very few exceptional cases, our 
destiny in eternity turns on the way we pass our 
life, not on the way we close it ? Who lives by 
faith, who lives to Christ, however he dies, shall 
find death to be gain. He who takes care of the 
nature of his life need feel no anxiety whatever 
about the character or issues of his death — the great 
question we should ask respecting others, and which 
shall one day be asked respecting us, being, not 
How did he die ? but How did he live ? 

The close of the seasons often supplies a criterion 
ol their character ; stubble-fields where the sheaves 
stand thick and tall, farm-yards swollen with the 
fruits of a lavish harvest, speak of an early spring 
and a genial summer, long days bright with sunshine 
and soft with showers. The close of a voyage 
also often reveals its character. From the pier- 
head where I have watched a homeward-bound ship 



OUR model. an 

enter the harbor, I could tell from her condition 
the weather she had encountered on distant seas 
— sails blown to tatters, bulwarks gone by the 
board, the stump of a mast rising ragged from her 
deck told the story of the voyage, and how the 
weather-beaten crew, who now congratulate each 
other as she floats into the dock, had battled with 
giant waves and well-nigh perished in the roaring 
tempest. But the close of man's life affords no such 
means of judging of its character. I have indeed 
seen death-beds, not a few, to which I could point, 
saying, " Mark thou the perfect man and behold 
the upright, for the latter end of that man is peace ;" 
where the chamber of death seemed the vestibule 
of heaven, and, after reading how Lazarus was 
borne by angels to Abraham's bosom, one almost 
expected to see their celestial forms and hear 
the rustling of their wings. How bright his sunset, 
for example, what a blessed peace his, who said to 
the friend that watched by his side, " If I am able 
to hear when the last moment approaches, be sure 
to tell me of it. I should like so well to know that 
a few breaths more, a short struggle more, and I am 
in glory with my Lord and Saviour." 

But so to die, to go up to Mount Zion with songs 
and everlasting joy upon their heads, to travel the 
dark valley singing, with the shout and step of a 
conqueror, trampling the last enemy beneath our 
feet, to expire with Christ's dear name trembling 
on our lips — that name our last word on earth, as 
it shall be the first we raise our hands to speak in 
heaven — is not granted to all who close at death 
a life of true love to God and saving faith in His 
Son. Some saints have died raving mad ; others 



212 OUR FATHER'S BUSINESS. 

in dark despair ; not a few in deep despondency — 
their cry an echo of the cross, My God, my God, 
why hast thou forsaken me ? — their faith finding in 
the disease of which they were dying what the sun 
finds in the cloud-bank behind which he sinks, a 
veil to obscure his light and conceal his glorious 
form. On the other hand, death is often preceded 
by an apathy, a listlessness, an obtuseness of feeling 
which renders the mind incapable of anxiety or 
alarm ; and passes with many thoughtless ones for 
the peace of God. Thus the wicked have sometimes 
" no bands in their death ;" nay, sometimes under 
delirium and a fevered brain, impenitent sinners die 
amid visions of glory, and with expressions of 
divinest rapture on their lips. In fact, the frame in 
which people die depends so much on the nature 
of their disease, so much on constitutional tenden- 
cies, so much on many accidental circumstances, 
that it forms no safe standard whereby to judge 
either what was their character in this world, or 
what is their condition in the next. By its fruit the 
tree is known. According to the deedsdone in the 
body, whether they were good or evil, is the last 
award. The judgment at God's bar turns not on 
the character of men's deaths,but of their lives ; and 
therefore the question which determines whether 
heaven or hell shall be our portion is not, how we 
died, but how we lived ? 

In these circumstances it is a great advantage to 
possess in God's Word not only full instructions 
how to live, but in His Son, what is more valuable 
than volumes of instructions, a model, a perfect 
model, after which to shape our lives. One of the 
dangerous tendencies of these times is to thrust 



OUR MODEL. 213 

Calvary and its cross into the background — to 
modify, and by modifying to emasculate, Paul's 
grand saying, " I am determined not to know 
anything among you, but Jesus Christ and him 
crucified. " Jesus Christ they know, but not Him 
crucified — not Him as a sacrifice for sin and the 
substitute of sinners, as fulfilling in our stead the 
demands of the divine law, satisfying the claims of 
justice, and reconciling the offender to an offended 
God. This is a vital, a cardinal doctrine. Who 
holds it fast will find the gates of hell shall not 
prevail agai«nst him. Plainly announcing it long 
ages ago, Isaiah said, " He was wounded for our 
transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities : 
the chastisement of our peace was upon him ; and 
with his stripes we are healed ;" and believing it, 
thousands since then have gone through the river 
to find the flood of Jordan part before the feet of 
the Priest. But as many others have been, the 
present error may be a reaction from an opposite 
but also an erroneous position ; the tendency of 
our minds being, under the law of action and re- 
action, to swing from one extreme to another. 
What if God, by permitting an error which dis- 
parages fundamental doctrines and rings senseless 
changes on a personal Christ, to disturb the Church, 
and lead some astray, may be rebuking men for 
having dwelt, not too much on Christ as a Pro- 
pitiation, but too little on Christ as a Pattern ? 
Valiant for the truth, and holding it fast, let us 
resent a heresy which, making light of the infinite 
evil of sin and the infinite holiness of God's law, 
must end in making light of the Saviour it pro- 
fesses to honor. At the same time, like wise men. 



214 OUR FATHER'S BUSINESS. 

we may extract the honey while we reject the 
sting ; and learn from these errors, not to look at 
Christ's death less, but at His life more : not to 
trust in Him less as a Mediator, but to copy Him 
more as a Model. 

A sense of the hopelessness of such an attempt 
may hinder it being made. People say, Who can 
succeed in modelling their life on Christ's — making 
their lives a fair and graceful copy of His ? To rise 
to such thoughts as His seems as impossible for us 
as for a bird of humble roost to follow the eagle 
when, springing from her rocky nest, she soars 
aloft, cleaving the sky till her lessening form is lost 
in its azure depths. We are required to make our 
light shine before men : but to shine with the light 
of such Avorks as Christ's seems as impossible for 
us as for a taper that burns its little hour to blaze 
like the sun, when, rising each morning with un- 
abated and unabating splendor, he bathes air, and 
earth, and ocean in one flood of light. To live 
like Christ ! — ah, who is sufficient for these things ? 
For fallen man to attempt it seems presumption — 
Scripture, and our own sad experience teaching us 
that we are not able of ourselves to think even 
one good thought! 

Nevertheless the motto of a Christian is Nil des- 
perandum — I despair of nothing. With resources 
to draw on which the world knows nothing, if our 
faith is in any degree commensurate with God's 
faithfulness we may address ourselves to duties 
the most difficult, saying " Who art thou, O great 
mountain ? Before Zerubbabel thou shalt become 
a plain." In this the believer is no fanatic, or fool ; 
no builder of castles in the air. He knows in 



OUR MODEL 215 

whom he has believed ; and what in others were 
the highest presumption, is in him a solid, well- 
founded trust. With God nothing is impossible ; 
nor impossible with one who, responding to a 
divine call, holds God's Word in his hand, and feels 
God himself at his back. It may be held an 
axiom of the Christian faith, that everything com- 
manded is come-at-able — " I can do all things," 
says Paul, " through Christ, who strengtheneth 
me. 

To attempt to live like Christ is no doubt a 
high, as it is a holy, object. To sing like Milton, 
to make discoveries like Newton, to climb the lofty 
solitude of the Macedonian who achieved the con- 
quest of the world, are mean in comparison with 
it. Since Christ united the divine to our human 
nature, who takes Him for a model aims, if I may 
say so, at being a God in miniature, — at presenting 
in the beneficence of his life, in a pure heart and a 
holy nature, such an image of the Godhead as we 
see of the sun in the lake that shines in his light, 
and reflects his dazzling form on its placid bosom. 
Scripture calls us to take prophets and martyrs, 
apostles and saints, for models — to walk in the 
footsteps of the flock ; and reading the lives of the 
great and the good, we are to catch theis spirit, 
and inflame our piety at their fires. But, without 
despising or disparaging these, we are to look 
higher still. Though his back is bent with toil, 
and his manners are rustic, and he has no home 
but a cot, and knows little of books beyond his 
Bible, the most ambitious of men, and yet the 
humblest, the believer, is inspired with the loftiest 
aims. His aim is not to be holy, as Paul, or Peter, 



216 OUR father's business. 

or John, or saints in glory, or even the angels 
before the throne. It is as God is holy that he 
seeks to be holy, — perfect as his Father in heaven 
is perfect — in nature, though not in measure ; just 
as in nature, though not in measure, the tiniest 
cup that is filled to the lip is as full as the great 
sea at flood-tide. 

But there is a view of Christ as our model which 
makes the imitation of Him appear less imprac- 
ticable ; for, as the great circle of the heavens 
seems to bend towards, and touch, and embrace 
the earth at the horizon, so the Son of the Most 
High, though exalted apparently above all ap- 
proach in His divinity, appears near to us in 
His humanity. In that nature He presents us 
with a model we may more hopefully attempt 
to imitate. How should it encourage us to 
attempt it, and, not disheartened by successive 
failures, to try it again and again, to remember that 
Jesus, though without sin, was made in all points 
like His brethren, — bone of our bone, and flesh of 
our flesh ; with a heart strung in every respect like 
our own ? Animated by the breath of God, the 
dust of Palestine, like that of Paradise, could have 
produced, in the second Adam, a man with every 
faculty mature. But Jesus sprang into being like 
one of us. He despised not the Virgin's womb ; 
and passed through all the common phases of 
human life — His condition and connections in the 
world in no apparent manner differing from ours. 
A babe, He was rocked in a cradle and fed at the 
breast like others. A child, He had the feelings, 
and entered into the common joys of childhood ; 
He might have been seen in his night-dress lisping 



OUR MODEL. 217 

prayers at His mother's knee ; nor was He made in 
all points like as we are if he stood apart from the 
innocent sports of the boys and girls of Nazareth. 
A man, He went to church on Sabbath ; and on 
other days, the sun lighting its Maker to His daily 
toil, He wrought at a bench, and ate His bread itfi 
the sweat of His brow. He was bound to others by 
the ordinary ties of humanity — this man was a 
cousin ; these were His brethren and sisters ; and, 
among the women who followed Him to Calvary, 
and wept by His cross, she on whose form, as it 
sinks fainting into John's arms, His last earthly 
look is fixed, is His mother. Indeed, so like was 
He in all things to His brethren that, until the last 
three years of His life, His townsmen never seem to 
have suspected who or what Jesus was, — that He 
was anything more than Joseph's son. They never 
so much as fancied that the God of their worship 
was present in the synagogue ; that the Messiah, 
of whose glorious coming the preacher discoursed 
in glowing colors, was there — in the meek, modest, 
gentle, unassuming man who sat by Mary, listen- 
ing to the sermon. 

And for what purpose did the Son of God thu*» 
identify Himself with our humanity ? In tasting 
every common cup — the obedience of childhood 
and labors of manhood, the pleasures of friendship 
and the sharp arrows of ingratitude, the kindness 
of affection and the cold neglects of selfishness, the 
joy of feasts and the grief of funerals, all they suffer 
who toil for daily bread, or, animated with phi- 
lanthropy, toil in the cause of others — our Lord 
not only thereby became a High Priest to sym- 
pathise with and succor us, as one touched with a 



2iS OUR FATHER'S BUSINESS. 

feeling of our infirmities, but, leaving His footprints 
on the sands of time, He became an Example that 
we should follow His steps. Would any one know 
how to live, let him turn to Christ's history and 
read it there. See how He lived devoted to the 
glory of God and the good of men : how He made 
it His meat and drink to do His Father's will, and 
also reverenced and obeyed His parents ; how He 
honored the Sabbath Day, and kept the whole 
law of God ; how, neither envious of the rich, nor 
ambitious to rise above His circumstances, He sub- 
mitted to a humble lot, and patiently endured its 
trials ; how He bore a life-long humiliation with 
contentment, and His few brief honors with hu- 
mility ; how He cherished His friends, and forgave 
His bitterest enemies ; how, gently rebuking the 
bad, and kindly raising the fallen, instructing the 
ignorant, helping the weak, shielding the oppressed, 
pitying all that sorrowed, relieving all that suffered, 
loving all that lived, He lived for others, not for 
Himself. In these things He set us an example. 
And, as I have seen a weaver on his loom working 
the beautiful flowers of a pattern into his web, let 
us by God's gracious help try to weave a copy of 
Christ's life into the body of our own. Men of 
God, for you no better shield against temptation, 
or stouter buckler in a battle-day, no better curb to 
pull us up on the edge of sin, nor sharper spur to 
urge us onward in the path of duty, than a constant 
imitation of Christ ; the habit of bringing all our 
conduct to this holy test — Had Christ been in my 
circumstances, how would He have acted ? — Would 
He have felt, would He have spoken, would He have 
acted as I am doing ? The Spirit helping us, we 



OUR MODEL. 215 

shall thus become living epistles of Jesus Christ, 
seen and read of all men ; true followers of Him 
whose history is summed up in this brief but 
weighty sentence, " He went about doing good." 
With aims no less lofty, let His holy, beautiful 
beneficent life be the model of ours ; and its 
motto — nobler than any ever blazoned on banners 
of silk, in letters of gold, and borne before the 
greatest kings — its motto this : To ME TO LIVE 
is Christ, and to die is gain 



MO OUR FATHER'S BUSINESS. 



The lower animals are not more distinguished 
from man by their want of sense than by their want 
of sympathy ; less so, perhaps, since some — the dog 
and elephant, for instance — are remarkably saga- 
cious, and cannot fairly be called irrational creatures. 
The animals have feelings ; they have strong feel- 
ings, fear, hope, jealousy, envy, hatred, and love. 
What more, for instance, could any mother do than 
the hen that, with courage foreign to her usual 
nature, on observing the hawk in the sky, calls 
her brood, and, facing the danger, covers them 
with her wings ; or the shaggy bear that, placing 
her cub behind her, confronts the hunters, and 
offers her bosom to their spears ? But though God 
has endowed the brute creatures with feeling, they 
have no fellow-feeling, or sympathy, as it is called. 
The fat and pampered favorite growls when some 
poor, gaunt, famished, homeless dog ventures near 
his heaped and ample trencher. The cattle of our 
fields browse on, careless of the dying struggles, 
unmoved by the dying groans, of some fellow 
of the herd ; and so destitute in their natural 
state do the lower animals seem of fellow-feeling, 
or anything akin to it, that I have never seen the 
sufferings of their fellows disturb or interfere in 
any degree with their ordinary sensual enjoyments, 



OUR OBJECT. 221 

While, in the words of an Apostle, "none of us 
liveth to himself," they live to themselves : that 
is one of their most remarkable characteristics ; 
and those, therefore, degrade humanity most, and 
bring it nearest to the condition of the brutes, 
who live for themselves, think only of themselves, 
have no other aim but their own profit and advan- 
tage, who, to express their character in one word, 
are selfish. , 

But selfishness, that base and degrading passion, 
is characteristic not only of such as God has 
never endowed with reason, but of those also who, 
having had, have lost it. Inside those gloomy 
walls where pity shelters and science seeks to cure 
insanity, one of the most common and not least 
painful aspects of the strange and melancholy 
scene is, that every one there appears to live for 
himself. There is a community, numbering hun- 
dreds, or thousands perhaps, but little, and, in the 
worst cases, no communion. Each one walks 
apart. They take no interest in one another. 
They laugh, they weep ; but there is no infection 
in their grief or gaiety. Each is occupied with 
his own thoughts, engrossed with his own imagined 
wrongs, or states, or pleasures. That is one of 
the most common and characteristic features of 
the insane : and they therefore degrade humanity, 
presenting it in one of its most humbling aspects, 
who, though not bereft of reason, think only of 
themselves ; and, again, to express their character 
in one word, are selfish — who, in the language of 
Scripture, " look not every man upon the things of 
others, but every man on his own things." 

In regard to this, as to other passions, men 



222 OUR FATHER'S BUSINESS. 

enter the world distinguished by original differ- 
ences. Wfth hearts, like instruments so finely 
strung that they sound to the slightest touch, some 
have much more sympathy than others ; yet all 
are by nature, to a greater or less degree, both 
self-willed and selfish. Who, that knows himself, 
does not feel that, even where this passion is held 
in most control by reason, and somewhat cured 
by grace ? And what mother has not discovered 
it — seen the inborn evil breaking out in the temper 
of her sweetest child ? Like a rose-bud with 
petals opening to the light of day, and bathed 
in the pearly dews of morning — gentle, playful, 
love beaming in its eyes, innocence in its winning 
smile, and with its sweet caresses, as it flings its 
arms around her neck, winding itself round her 
heart, there is no object in the world so beautiful 
in a mothers eyes as her babe ; yet she soon 
learns that what seemed a young angel just lighted, 
like a sunbeam, on this evil world, is, in fact, a 
fallen creature, and may become a serpent to sting 
the bosom it lies on. See how it will have its 
own way ; how it rebels against authority ; how 
its little hand is put out to grasp what is another's ; 
how it grudges to share its pleasures with any 
one else ! Let its will be crossed, and its angry 
cries, its tears, the struggles of its impetuous 
though impotent rage, show that selfishness is 
a bad, base passion, common to every human 
breast. 

Therefore, here, on the very threshold of my 
subject, I wish to say that a change of heart 
is an indispensable preliminary to the Christian 
life — its first step and starting-point. Without 



OUR OBJECT. 223 

that, with inborn selfishness unrestrained, uncon- 
quered by the power of grace, man cannot attain 
to the end and objects of the Christian life. To 
say " Christ liveth in me, and the life that I now 
live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son 
of God, who loved me, and gave himself for 
me," we must be able to say with Paul, "I am 
crucified with Christ." To follow the eagle in 
her flight, we must be furnished with eagles' wings ; 
and to walk in the steps of Him who lived not 
for Himself, nor died for Himself, nor rose for 
Himself, nor now reigns for Himself, we must be 
born again, and baptized with the baptism of the 
Holy Spirit. Who would have the manners, must 
have the mind that was in Christ. 

In opening up our subject, the End or Object, 
namely, for which Christians should live, I may 
show what that is by showing what it is not. 
Well, then, It is not living to ourselves. 

This, as I have already said, is to be selfish. 
And such he is whose horizon, unlike the vast 
rim of the sea or distant range of snow-crowned 
Alps, has no wider bounds than self ; and whose 
heart, like a man's coffin, is just his own measure ; 
long enough and broad enough to hold himself — 
with room for no one else. I have said that such 
people ally themselves, not to angels, for they 
minister to them who are heirs of salvation, and, 
making heaven ring to their songs, rejoice over 
every sinner that repenteth : nor to Christ, for He 
went about doing good, and made it His meat 
and His -drink to do, not His own, but His Father's 
will ; — they ally themselves to the brute creation, 
among all which their most perfect type perhaps 



224 °UR father's business. 

is the unsocial, low crustacean which bores itsell 
a hole in the sea-rock ; nor ever leaves that narrow 
home to expatiate in the freedom of the deep ; 
nor of all God's creatures holds communion with 
any but itself. Not God, not Christ, not others 
and others' good, but self is, I cannot say the 
sun — for that is a glorious object — the centre 
around which their thoughts, desires, fears, hopes, 
wishes, all keep turning. Like the whirlpool that 
sucks in straws and sea-weed, tiny boats, and 
gallant ships, self swallows up all the interests, 
great or little, that belong to others in its vast 
devouring vortex. Voracious as a whirlpool, it 
is insatiable as the grave ; and, crying " Give, give, 
give" — takes all, to render nothing back. If such 
people are ever converted, like David they will 
address God, saying, " I was as a beast before Thee." 
Selfishness has worse features still. Regarded 
in the aspect they present to God, the selfish 
appear yet more hateful ; their ruling passion 
assumes a yet darker character. It shuts God out 
of the heart ; and turning the soul, once His bright, 
holy temple, into that dark, dreary, atheistic spot 
in the universe where He is not, it is to be regarded 
as the greatest impiety. It thrusts God from His 
throne, and places man in His room ; the true 
object of every selfish man's worship being himself. 
Now, for myself, I would rather be a Papist wor- 
shipping the Saints, some of whom are stars in 
heaven — even a blinded Pagan, in stocks and stones, 
worshipping forms within whose cold breasts no 
foul passions ever burned, than be the man who is 
his own God. In hi ; case how foul the temple, 
and contemptible the divinity ! What a contrast 



OUR OBJECT. 22 5 

to his feelings those of the holy patriarch, as, 
addressing God, he said, " I have heard of thee by 
the hearing of the ear, but now mine eye seeth 
thee. Wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in 
dust and ashes." 

Many, I know, regard selfishness as a mere 
defect in disposition, no serious or grave offence ; 
but this living to one's self is not only one of the 
greatest sins against nature, allying us to the 
beasts that perish — not only one of the greatest 
sins against our fellow-creatures, shutting up our 
bowels of compassion from them — not only one of 
the greatest sins against Jesus Christ, who, living 
and dying for others, says, " If any man will be 
my disciple, let him take up his cross, deny himself 
daily, and follow me," — and not only one of the 
greatest sins against God, whom it denies and, in a 
sense, dethrones — but is the seed and sum of all 
sins whatever. For though sin, Proteus-like, 
assumes many forms, selfishness is the parent and 
bitter root of all. Trace sin up to its source, 
whether in earth or heaven, and it will be found so. 
The pride that ruined the angels, and cast them 
from their celestial seats ; the ambition that fired 
our first mother's bosom, and led to the crime that 
wrecked this fair world and ruined our happiness, 
may both be traced to self. To the passion which 
makes our own will man's supreme rule and our 
own gratification his highest good, we may there- 
fore apply, with the slight change of a single word 
in each case, the words of Paul and John : these 
namely, " The love of self is the root of all evil" — 
" If any man love self, the love of the Father is not 
in him." 

15 



226 OUR FATHER'S BUSINESS. 

Observe further, that one who, selfishly inclined, 
lives to himself is not only unlike God and God's 
Son, the Father who gave the Son, and the Son 
who, willing to be given, gave Himself for us, but 
is unlike any of God's works. What has the 
Creator made that exists for itself? Not the sun 
— bright image of Divine beneficence, he burns to 
warm, and shines to light the worlds that roll 
around him. Not the sea — image of Divine fulness, 
which, furnishing food and a home to innumerable 
myriads, teems with happy life ; and extending its 
blessings to lands the furthest from its shores, hangs 
their skies with the clouds that temper the torrid 
heat, and supply the rains which clothe their hills 
with forests and their vales with fields of corn. 
Not, as I will show, the meanest plant that grows 
— the lichen, for example, which casts its gray 
mantle over the aged ruin, or, appearing but a 
dusky stain, colors and clothes the rocks. Doomed 
to decay, like everything that lives on earth, it 
dies, and turned into dust, becomes a few grains of 
soil. These, accumulating in the course of time 
and washed by showers into some fissure, by and 
by form a suitable seed-bed. Into this, swept by 
the tempest, or dropped by passing bird, an acorn 
falls, which germinates ; and fed by the lichen 
dust, grows ; and sending out its roots for nourish- 
ment, rises at length into a stately oak. This 
offers a home to the birds of the air that build 
among its branches, and sheds its fruit to feed the 
boar and other beasts of the forest. It lives not 
for itself. Nor dies for itself ; for when at length 
its stately trunk falls, groaning to the woodman's 
axe, it gives strength and body to the ship that, 



OUR OBJECT. 227 

manned by patriots, thunders on the deep in 
freedom's battle, or, bearing a flag of peace, and 
bound on a holy mission,, carries to distant shores 
and savage homes the peaceful heralds cf the 
Cross. And what thus characterizes even the 
meanest of God's works on earth must characterize 
the highest — which I take to be a renewed, re- 
deemed, sanctified man, one bought with the blood 
and baptized with the Spirit of Christ. He there- 
fore has, and can have, no pretensions to regard 
himself as a true Christian who, whatever his 
Church, or creed, or condition, eaten up of selfish- 
ness, lives only, or chiefly, for himself. Unless the 
same mind be in us that was in Jesus Christ, we 
are none of His. 

Baptized in the Spirit as well as in the blood of 
Jesus, Christians would not live to themselves 
though they could ; and, on the other hand, there 
is a sense in which even the selfish could not 
though they would. Such is every man's influence 
either for good or evil within the domestic and 
social circles in which he moves. By way of illus- 
trating that remark, let me tell what happened 
when a lighthouse was finished which stands eleven 
miles out at sea in sight of the windows of my old 
country manse ; and in which, whether seen stand- 
ing erect on its rock by day amid the raging 
billows, or shining like a star through the gloom of 
night, to guide ships off the reef and on to their 
desired haven, always seemed the very type of one 
who, as a Christian, fills a like blessed office, and 
rests on a like sure foundation. This, the Bell 
Rock Lighthouse, is exposed on every side to the 
full sweep of stormy seas ; and with such power do 



228 OUR FATHER'S BUSINESS. 

they hurl themselves against it, that, rising on ita 
sides, they often wrap it in a sheet of foam — some- 
times send the water in flowing cataract clean over 
its lofty summit Now the first storm that tried 
its strength, entirely shook the confidence of its 
keepers. What alarmed them was not that the 
waves running up to the very summit wrapped its 
sides in foam, and them in darkness ; but that the 
tower when struck by some giant billow, as if 
struck also with terror and anticipating destruction, 
trembled from top to bottom. In terror them- 
selves, they hasted with the tidings to the architect, 
who, to their surprise, received them as " tidings of 
great joy." He doubted no longer the stability 
of the fabric. When struck on one part the whole 
building felt the shock, every stone seemed to 
sympathize with another, just because every course 
was firmly fixed to every other course, and the 
tower, though built of many separate blocks, was 
bound together as if it were a monolith, one single 
stone — to use the language of the Psalms, was 
" compactly built together." And all are thus 
bound together ; to this extent at least, that ever) 
man makes his character, his life, his habits felt b> 
others ; exerting an influence on all around hirr 
either for good or evil. 

Indeed the influence which, through the law of 
sympathy, we exert on others, those above and 
below, as well as those beside us, is involved in the 
very idea of society ; and be it a Church, or nation, 
or family, that community is, as a community, in 
its most perfect state, where this sympathy is most 
felt by all its separate members. Hence the 
answer of the Greek sa^e to a Question often dis- 



OUR OBJECT. 229 

cussed, this namely, " Which is the best brm of 
government ?" — an autocracy with all power vested 
in one person ; or an aristocracy where the power 
of government is divided among a few leading 
men ; or a democracy where, often swayed hither 
and thither by fitful gusts of sudden passion, the 
multitude rule ? — The best government, said Plato, 
is that under which the meanest citizen can suffei 
no wrong but all the rest will feel it. 

This noble utterance of heathen lips, another 
form of the inspired expression " no man liveth to 
himself," enunciates a grand principle which runs 
through the Divine government, and forms the 
very life and soul of practical Christianity. What 
saith the Scriptures ? " Pure religion and undefiled 
before God and the Father is this, To visit the 
fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to 
keep himself uspotted from the world." And 
to what a great extent are the evils that now afflict 
society due to the neglect of this principle ? — trace 
able to this, that people, forgetting the duties they 
owed to others, have lived to themselves. For 
long years the upper classes, if not, as in many 
other countries, treading the lower under foot, 
treated them with neglect ; and, though mistaken, 
as events are proving, fancied that, separated by a 
great gulf from the vulgar throng, they might 
move in their higher spheres, living to themselves. 
Making money or enjoying its pleasures, the 
middle and wealthier classes left the poor, unpitied 
and unhelped, to struggle on, and at length sink 
by thousands into degradation and destitution — 
they also refused to be regarded as their brother's 
keepers, thinking that they could safely indulge 



230 OUR father's business. 

their selfishness. Alas ! even Christian churches, 
I am sorry to add, fostering unseemly jealousies, 
and wasting their strength on wretched quarrels, 
also lived for themselves ; often subordinating the 
high claims of souls to the petty interests of a 
sect. 

" Shall I not visit for these things, saith the 
Lord ? shall not my soul be avenged on such a 
nation as this ?" He has done so. How have our 
sins found us out ? By the drunkenness that is 
our national disgrace, by the gross ignorance, the 
brutal manners, and godless habits of great masses 
of the people ; by prisons full of criminals, and 
workhouses full of paupers ; by the burdens which 
indolence entails on industry, and crime on virtue ; 
by the prostitution that walks, and the drunkards 
that reel, along our streets ; by the vast numbers, 
amounting in London alone, for example, to a 
million and a half, who never enter a house of God, 
God is teaching us that the laws of the moral are 
as sure as those of the material world — those that 
govern the tides of ocean or the seasons of the 
year ; and that, since no man liveth to himself, one 
of these moral laws is this, that, if we neglect the 
duties we owe to others, whether they belong to 
our family, to our neighborhood, or to society in 
general, not they only, but we ourselves shall 
suffer for it in the end. Crimes committed against, 
as well as benefits bestowed on others, like bread 
cast on the waters, come back many days hence. 

And now, though it anticipates what properly 
belongs to another branch of the subject, I would 
here answer the question which, prompted by a 
feeling that they have lived too much to themselves 



OtJR OBJECT. 23 1 

and missed the grand end of a Christian life, some 
may be ready to ask, in the words of that grand 
old cry, " Men and brethren, what shall we do ?" 
Well, every man and woman on this earth have 
their mission ; and having to seek, not only our 
own salvation and welfare, but the salvation, 
welfare, happiness, and advantage of others also, 
there is none who may not adopt the words of 
Nehemiah, saying, " I have a great work to do !" 
Divine grace is equal to it, if you go about it wisely 
— " My grace shall be sufficient for you," says God. 
Now you have a post in this life assigned to you, 
keep it ; a field of labor, cultivate it ; a sphere of 
usefulness, public, or private, or both perhaps, fill 
it with light ; opportunities of doing good, improve 
them — remembering that as there is not one within 
reach of your voice, who sleeps beneath the same 
roof, who works in the same shop or field, who 
worships in the same church, who is embraced 
within the wide or narrow arms of the same social 
circle, over whom you may not exert an influence 
for evil, who may not be the worse of your com- 
pany, so there is none who may not be the better 
of it, over whom you may not have an influence for 
good. Your influence may be small, but so is the 
candle which burns in a cottage window ; yet at 
what a long distance is it seen, and how large the 
sphere it fills with light ? I know a man, for 
instance, who, at the close of each day's work, 
turned his steps to the prison and with his Bible 
on his knees, or on his knees on the floor, spent 
the evening hours in its gloomy cells ; seeking to 
instruct the ignorant and reclaim the criminal, and 
raise the fallen. The judgment-day shall show 



232 OUR FATHER'S BUSINESS. 

how many he restored, penitent and pardoned, to 
the bosom of God ; but it is certain that, alone 
and single-handed, he rescued and reformed four 
hundred criminals ; restoring them, honest and 
well-doing men, to the bosom of society. What 
life-boat, pulled by strong hands through roaring 
breakers to sinking ship and drowning men, ever 
made a rescue like that ? Yet that was the work 
of a man in humble life ; without name, or influ- 
ence, or rank, or more than ordinary talents ; but 
with love to men such as burned in the heart that 
was pierced and broken on the Cross of Calvary. 
Now, before he dies, let every Christian go down, 
as it were, to the shore to pluck the drowning 
from the flood — in some poor sinner whom he 
is blessed to save, let him find at least one gem to 
shine and sparkle in his heavenly crown. 

Here, ingratitude may be the chief return the 
large and loving-hearted meet for their labors of 
love ; but be assured that though man forgets you, 
your Master will not. It is they who glorify God, 
who shall enjoy Him ; they who deny themselves, 
who shall not be denied ; they who labor on 
earth, who shall rest in heaven ; they who bear the 
cross, who shall wear the crown ; they who seek to 
bless others, who shall be blessed ; nor is there a 
prayer you offer, one good word you drop, a work 
of mercy you undertake, a tear you shed for 
sinners, a loaf you carry to a poor man's door, a 
cup of water, even a kind look given to human 
sorrow, that shall be forgotten. All are recorded 
in the Chronicles of the Kingdom, and shall be 
acknowledged in the presence of an assembled 
universe, when, unnoticed and unknown no longer, 



OUR OBJECT. ±33 

you bend your head for the blood-bought crown, 
and Christ, as He places it on immortal brows, 
says, Thus it shall be done to the man whom the 
King delighteth to honor ! That day will show 
that the true way for a man to live was not to live 
to himself but to others ; that, paradox as it sounds, 
the way for a man never to be forgotten is to forget 
himself. He will be no loser by that. The sun is 
not less resplendent, for all the light he sheds when 
he sinks in the golden west ; nor the sea, when she 
roars along the shore, less full, for all the showers 
she gives ; nor the rose, the lily, or the jessamine 
less fragrant, for all the odors they fling on the 
passing breeze ; nor the earth leaner, but fatter, 
for the cattle that tread its pastures, and the 
harvests that are borne from its field ; and even 
so it will be found that they who have lived most 
for others have lived best for themselves. The 
God whose glory, not their own, they sought, shall 
net forget to glorify them ; and, rewarding what 
they did for others as done to Himself, their Judge 
shall say, " Inasmuch as ye did it to one of the 
least of them, ye did it unto me." May their cha- 
racter, as thus painted by the poet, be ours ! — 

Far other aims his heart had learned to prize, 

More bent to raise the wretched than to rise. 

• ■.**•■•.#• 

Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride, 

And even his failings leaned to virtuVs side ; 

But in his duty prompt, at every call 

He watched and wept, he prayed and felt for all : 

And as a bird each fond endearment tries 

To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies, 

He tried each art, reproved each dull delay, 

Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way. 



*u OUR father's business. 



§m CJjuf $nir— Cfre #l0tg 0f #0ir, 

" WHEN thou sittest to eat with a ruler, consider 
diligently what is before thee, and put a knife to 
thy throat, if thou be a man given to appetite." 
This passage, in which Solomon, by a startling 
metaphor, teaches the propriety of self-restraint, 
illustrates one of the most remarkable features of 
the Bible — this, namely, that though the conditions 
of men are infinitely varied, each one may find 
something appropriate to itself there. Our globe 
floats in an ocean of air ; and as that, the atmos- 
phere which surrounds it, descends to the bottom 
of the deepest mine, and also rises to the summit of 
the highest mountain ; as it covers continents and 
seas alike ; as, an element of universal life, it is 
found in all dwellings, and is fitted for men in all 
variety of conditions ; so is the Word of God. 
Thus, whether they dwell in a palace or a prison, 
whether they celebrate a feast or observe a fast, 
whether they are prosperous or unfortunate in 
business, whether they hang rejoicing over a cradle 
or sit weeping by a coffin, whether they enjoy 
health or lie pining on a bed of sickness, whether 
they are occupied with the things of this world 
or of the next, whatever be the relation in which 
they stand to others, — that of sovereign or subject, 
parent or child, brother or sister companion or 



OUR CHIEF END — THE GLORY OF GOD. 235 

neighbor, bosom friend or deadly foe, — there are 
none but will find something in the Bible written 
for them, and for their case. 

While spreading itself thus over the whole 
surface of society, and directing us in the vast 
variety of cases which society offers, this book in 
some instances presents remarkable illustrations of 
the adage " much in little." Like a river which, 
flowing in a broad and spacious bed, contracts its 
limits, and collects its waters to pour them through 
a rocky channel not broader than a brave man 
could leap, the Bible gathers up all its directions 
to men in all manner of circumstances to present 
them in one short, single, comprehensive sentence. 
For instance, the duties we owe to God and to our 
neighbors, which fill so many of its chapters and 
have filled so many volumes of divinity, it gathers 
up into this short saying, " Thou shalt love the 
Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy 
soul, and with all thy mind ; and thy neighbor as 
thyself." On these, says our Lord, hang all the 
law and the prophets. Enunciating the motives 
from which our conduct should spring, these con- 
dense into one sentence the whole duty of man. 
With a condensation no less remarkable, and an 
application equally broad, the Apostle Paul enun- 
ciates, not the motives but the object of our con- 
duct, not the feelings that should move us, but the 
end we should move to, in this single but equally 
memorable sentence, "Whether therefore ye eat, 
or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory 
ol God." 

This is the End for which we should live ; and 
what a noble end this, compared with the mean. 



236 OUR father's business. 

base, paltry, selfish, sinful objects for which so 
many live ! Let a domestic who kindles a fire 
or sweeps a floor, do so for God's glory, let her 
go about her meanest avocations with a desire to 
honor the God she serves and the religion she pro- 
fesses ; like the lark that from its lowly nest ascends 
on quivering wing to fill the blue sky over him with 
a flood of melody, let a ploughman, rising to this 
object, draw his furrow and go through his work 
with a view to God's glory, as well as to his 
master's interests and his own, and here indeed 
" the end sanctifies the means ;" the secular 
becomes a sacred, the meanest an exalted and 
honorable occupation. By this motive we ally 
ourselves to the angels who sing God's praise and 
shine to His glory. Rising higher still, we become 
one with God himself. Our aim is His : He does 
all things for His own glory. In a sense we live 
the life and die the death of Him who, praying, 
" Father, glorify thy Son, that thy Son also may 
glorify thee," undertook the work of redemption, 
and brought to light in the latent attribute 
of Mercy the brightest jewel of His Father's 
crown. 

A grand End to live for, how many are the 
strong yet most tender, the common yet most 
sacred ties, that bind us to it, it were impossible 
to tell. We have more reason for living to God's 
glory than any angel has. He made us, He has 
preserved our fragile life, He has provided for our 
daily wants. But to man He has been merciful 
and gracious, besides being abundant in goodness 
and in truth — having borne with us, and pitied us, 
and spared us, and loved us, and, not sparing His 



OUR CHIEF END — THE GLORY OF GOD. 237 

own Son, redeemed us, and by Kis gracious Spirit 
called us out of darkness into His marvellous light. 
And so the warmest love to God should burn in 
human bosoms ; and in the heavenly choir the 
highest notes should be sung, not by angels, but 
by those whom Jesus has redeemed to God by His 
blood out of every kindred, and nation, and people, 
and tongue. In taking our nature into union with 
His own, God conferred the rarest and highest 
honor on humanity ; nor, since He redeemed men 
with the blood of His Son, do the highest angels 
wear crowns so bright as the thief of the cross, or 
the woman that was a sinner. As in the families 
of men the youngest child is seated by day next 
to its father, and lies closest by night to its 
mother's breast ; or as in the material heavens 
it is not the largest but the smallest planets that 
revolve in orbits nearest to the sun ; so in con- 
sequence of redeeming love, though in his original 
position inferior to angels, man occupies in the 
family of God, and in those heavens of which the 
visible are but the starry pavement, a place nearest 
to the throne. And thus by the law that to whom 
much is given, of them shall much be required, 
those whom God has most loved are most bound 
to love, those whom He has most glorified are most 
bound to glorify Him. 

We may regard the glory of God in a wider 
aspect than in its connection with our pleasure or 
our duty. There are in nature, ordained of God, 
laws of limited operation, and others, acting every- 
where and on everything, of universal operation. 
There is no place in the world, for instance — neither 
on the sea nor its shore, neither at the bottom 



238 OUR father's business. 

of the darkest mine nor on the snowy summit 
of the loftiest mountain, — where a stone, if dropped 
from the hand, does not fall, drawn downward by 
the earth's attraction. Nor is this, which is called 
the law of gravitation, bounded by earth, her 
spacious seas or sounding shores. It reaches the 
utmost limits of creation ; so that the law by which 
its rattle drops from an infant's hand, or the tear 
from its cheek, is the very law that rolls the planets 
in their orbits and fixes the stars in heaven. Now 
He who appears — so far as science has travelled the 
realms, and penetrated the mysteries, of creation — 
to have made all matter, worlds equally with grains 
of sand, suns of light equally with drops of rain, 
celestial equally with terrestrial things subject to 
the imperial law of gravitation, with a sweep more 
universal still, because embracing both the spiritual 
and the material universe, has made all things for 
His own glory. Insects as well as angels, the 
flowers that spangle the meadow as well as the 
stars that spangle the sky, the lamp of the glow- 
worm as well as the light of the sun, the lark that 
sings in the air and the saint that is singing in 
Paradise, the still small voice of conscience as well 
as the thunders that rend the clouds, or the trump 
that shall rend the tomb, — these and all things else 
manifest God's attributes and proclaim His praise. 
They glorify Him ; and for that end — the loftiest 
that God, angel, or man can aim at — they were 
made. As is said in Scripture, " The Lord hath 
made all things for himself: yea, even the wicked! 
for the day of evil." 

There is a sense indeed in which we, puny 
creatures whom He could crush before the moth, 



OUR CHIEF END — THE GLORY OF GOD. 23g 

may defeat God in this object, may defraud Hirr. 
of His due. " Will a man rob God ?" is the ques- 
tion He himself puts ; and, speaking to the Jews, 
answers thus : " Ye hath robbed me of tithes and 
offerings." But while, to use His own strong lan- 
guage, men may rob God of the love, service, time, 
and talents which are His due, of His glory they can 
no more rob Him than they can pluck from His 
hand the sceptre, or from His brows the crown, 
of the universe. For though the atheist denies His 
existence, — the fool saying in his heart, " There 
is no God ;" and the infidel His Word, — spurning 
it as an old superstition or cunningly-devised fable ; 
and others, less bold but equally undutiful, like 
Simon Magus who sought the Holy Ghost to make 
money of his gifts, may profess for worldly ends to 
serve Him, while in reality, the slaves of vicious 
passions, they serve His enemy, the devil, how 
abortive are all their efforts to rob Him of His 
glory ? " He that sits in heaven laughs, the Lord 
holds them in derision ;" making the ungodly 
passions and very wrath of man so to praise Him, 
that they who will not glorify Him with the services 
of earth and on the harps of heaven, shall be com- 
pelled, as objects of His righteous indignation, to 
glorify Him in the fires of hell. Not that He wishes 
it so. God is not willing that any should perish. 
Not that He has any pleasure in the death even of 
the wicked. Not but that He would have all men 
to come and be saved. He spared not His Son 
that He might spare us. But He will have His 
glory out of all men. Let men, therefore, " kiss 
the Son lest he be angry, and they perish from the 
way." " Every tree that bringeth not forth good 



24O OUR FATHERS BUSINESS. 

fruit, shall be cut down and cast into the fire ;" nor 
will God be defrauded of His glory. The tree that 
is not good for fruit shall be found good for fuel. 

For example, Pharaoh had no intention whatever 
of serving God and promoting His glory. Nothing 
was further from his thoughts ; as appears from 
the insolent and defiant tone of his answer to the 
message conveyed to him from God by Moses and 
Aaron : " Thus saith the Lord God of Israel, Let 
my people go !" " Who is the Lord that I should 
obey his voice to let Israel go ? I know not the 
Lord, neither will I let Israel go !" Thus, the 
proud king of Egypt throws down the gage of 
battle ; and daring the God of Israel to do His 
worst, puts the people under a more grievous and 
grinding bondage. Yet see how God took His 
glory out of this man ; making Egypt a theatre 
on which to display His sovereign and almighty 
power in a series of unparalleled and stupendous 
miracles ! Moses throws his rod on the palace 
floor ; and as soon as the straight, dry, dead wood 
touches the ground, it turns, and twists, and hisses, 
and rears its crest, a living serpent, — putting the 
astonished courtiers to sudden flight. He stretches 
it on the river — and all the waters of Egypt change 
into blood ; the goblet with its loathsome draught 
drops from the hands of the thirsty ; and the Nile 
rolls its red flood from shore to shore onward to 
the sea, crimsoning her foaming waves. He raises 
it ; and loud thunders rend the sky, nor cease till 
there is neither standing tree nor living beast in 
the fertile fields of Egypt — all lie crushed and 
killed by balls of fire and tremendous bolts of ice. 
Miracle succeeds miracle ; each fit of Pharaoh's 



OUR CHIEF END — THE GLORY OF GOD. 241 

obstinacy affording God an opportunity ot glorify- 
ing Himself through one who refused to glorify Him. 
Nor was the last of these judgments the least 
remarkable. For though it was to his own de- 
struction, it was eminently to God's glory that 
Pharaoh, seeing the sea open its gates to let Israel 
go, rushed down into the deep, lashing his horses 
like a madman. And when Moses, standing against 
he morning skyline on a rock of the other shore, 
again stretched out his rod, the parted waters, 
obedient to the signal, rushed together, to roar 
and foam in one wild tumultuous sea over the 
banners and chariots, the pride and hosts of Egypt. 
The sea has moaned over many a wreck, but never 
made one like that, over which her avenging waves 
go rejoicing ; and never did any man she flung on 
her shore less intend to glorify God than he over 
whom, and the drowned host the waves floated to 
their feet, Moses and the whole congregation sang, 
" I will sing unto the Lord, for he has triumphed 
gloriously : the horse and his rider hath he thrown 
into the sea. Thy right hand, O Lord, is glorious 
in power : thy right hand hath dashed in pieces the 
enemy ; thou didst blow with thy wind, the sea 
covered them : they sank as lead in the mighty 
waters. Who is like unto thee among the gods ? 
who is like thee, glorious in holiness, fearful in 
praises, doing wonders ? Sing ye to the Lord, for 
he hath triumphed gloriously ; the horse and its 
rider hath he thrown into the sea !" 

But let us confine our attention to the glory of 
God as the end for which we should be willing, and 
should be happy, to live. Without entering into 
the merits of the different catechisms used by 

16 



242 OUR FATHER'S BUSINESS. 

Protestant Churches, all will admit that none open 

with an introduction more grand than that of the 
Westminster Divines. Whatever judgment may 
be formed of the building itself, no porch or 
vestibule, no introduction could exceed in loftiness 
and grandeur the manner in which it opens — with 
this question, namely, and its appropriate answer. 
" What is the chief end of man ?" — " The chief 
end of man is to glorify God, and enjoy him for 
ever." With that, like the catechism, our life 
should open, and should also close ; the glory of 
God, and not our own, being the end we ought to 
have in view in all its plans and purposes, its 
actions and arrangements. And it may serve to 
illustrate the subject, and also promote a good 
practical end, to consider here the case which St. 
Paul puts, namely that of eating and drinking to 
the glory of God. 

Now I remark that we eat and drink to this end 
when we share our food with the needy. It were 
not to glorify God, it were not to be like the 
children of our Father in heaven, it were not to 
recommend religion in the eyes of the world, it 
were not to adorn the doctrine of God our Saviour, 
it were not to be like Jesus Christ, for Christians to 
pamper their appetite and indulge their love of a 
luxurious table to the loss of those who suffer 
want, and are ready to perish. I refer not only to 
times of public calamity, of high prices and low 
wages, of scant harvests and stern winters, of such 
destruction of crops as some years ago sent our 
Highlanders to their stormy shores to pluck the 
tangle and gather shells for food, and turned 
Ireland into a Hadadrimmom,or valley of weeping. 



OUR CHIEF END — THE GLORY OF GOD. 243 

At all times and everywhere, but especially in our 
c rowded cities, there are families sorely pinched 
for the common necessaries of life ; people who 
struggle for existence, and find it hard to feed the 
hungry mouths of children, or keep body and soul 
together. In many cases, perhaps, their vices have 
reduced them to this misery ; and it is sometimes 
a serious and difficult question whether, and how 
far, charity should interpose between crime and its 
consequences. God has wisely ordained suffering 
to be the penalty of sin, and appointed pain the 
guardian of virtue as well as of life. Were it other- 
wise, were the indolent to enjoy the same advan- 
tages as the industrious, were vice as conducive to 
health and wealth and pleasure as virtue, this world 
would not be fit to live in. Therefore, however 
painful it may be to refuse relief and pass by the 
sufferer, as if our hearts, instead of bleeding for 
them, were as hard as stone, our duty in certain 
cases and to some extent may require us to allow 
men, by reaping as they have sowed, to learn that 
"the way of transgressors is hard." But God 
makes his sun to shine upon the evil and the good ; 
and we are to be the children of our Father in 
heaven, which we cannot be, — blessing others, the 
many who suffer want in this world and no blame 
to them, poor children, the fatherless, and the 
stranger, — unless in the very matter of our tables 
and of ministering to our appetites we have respect 
to God's glory. Were there no waste on the part 
of some, how much less want would there be on 
the part of others ? If Dives had not fared sump- 
tuously, Lazarus had fared comfortably, every 
day. The waste that goes on in many houses, the 



244 °UR father's business. 

luxuries under which tables groan and health 
suffers, would supply the wants, and diffuse con- 
tentment through the homes, of thousands ; and 
they only who, thinking that there is room and 
bread enough at their Father's table for them and 
others, make room for these, and from their own 
superfluity supply their neighbor's plate and fill 
his cup, eat to God's glory ; glorify God at the 
table in eating, as well as in the temple in wor- 
shipping ; and breathe the spirit of Him, our Divine 
Pattern, who, when the fare was but barley loaves 
and fishes, said, " Gather up the fragments, that 
nothing may be lost !" 

I remark again, we eat and drink to God's glory 
when we abstain from excess — from the gluttony 
that, on the one hand, makes man a beast and the 
drunkenness that, on the other hand, makes him a 
devil. The last, as a national, at least our most 
prevailing sin, has the chief claim on our notice. 
The evils of intemperance we would not have cause 
to lament, and be ashamed of; it would not be 
the blot of our country and the disgrace of our 
Churches, the curse of so many families and the 
"skeleton" in so many houses, were God's glory 
our end in eating and in drinking, as in all things 
else. But such wide-spread desolation has this 
hideous vice wrought on the peace and prosperity 
of families, on the bodies and souls of those for 
whom Jesus died, that many, who do not go the 
length of saying that there is sin in the use of 
stimulants, go the length (and I am not ashamed 
to confess myself one of the number) of saying that 
these do so much more ill than good, are so 
dangerous to all and so deadly to many, that for 



OUR CHIEF END — THE GLORY OF GOD. 



HO 



security against their abuse, it is best, unless as 
medicines, to abstain from their use. A matter 
this to which the apostolic rule applies, " Let every 
man be fully persuaded in his own mind." 

I know that great errors have been propagated, 
and even great crimes committed, from mistaken 
views of what was for the glory of God. For that 
end, Saul of Tarsus — as many bloody bigots have 
done since then — persecuted the Church of God, 
and was so exceedingly mad against Christ's 
people that his very name struck terror into their 
hearts. In shedding Stephen's blood, and breath- 
ing forth slaughters, this Jew thought he did God 
service. He aimed at God's glory ; but by how 
great a distance did he miss the mark ? People, I 
admit, may be as far wrong as Saul, or even Jehu, 
when pursuing his selfish and ambitious ends, he 
reined in his fiery steeds and invited the prophet 
to share his chariot, saying, " Come, see my zeal 
for the Lord." But though it may sometimes be 
doubtful whether a sober man is on the way to 
heaven, there is, and can be, no doubt that a 
drunkard is on the way to hell. It may be a 
question with a humble, downcast, trembling be- 
liever, seated at the Lord's table, whether, when 
he raises the wine cup of communion to his lips, he 
is drinking to the glory of God ; but there can be 
no question that God is not glorified, but dis- 
honored, by the cup which turns man's heart to 
stone and his head to madness, — which destroys 
his reason, and damns his soul. No drunkard, 
says the Bible, " shall inherit the kingdom of 
God." 

AH who love God and their fellow-creatures, 



246 OUR FATHER'S BUSINESS. 

who are animated with a spark of the love which 
brought our blessed Saviour to this world and the 
cross, should, as pre-eminently one grand way of 
living to the glory of God, conspire together to 
check, and, were that possible, to extinguish and 
trample out this terrible vice. It may be said of 
its evils, their name is legion. For one God's 
providence makes poor, drunkenness reduces a 
thousand to poverty ; for one born without reason, 
it deprives thousands of reason ; for one sober man 
who commits suicide, by the accidents which it 
produces and the diseases which it generates, it 
sends thousands by their own hands to an untimely 
grave ; and in broken-hearted wives and starving 
children kills many more than the murderers who 
fall on scaffolds — than battles that redden earth's 
soil with soldiers' blood. It is calculated that, by 
its direct or indirect influence, drunkenness costs 
this country, year by year, of lives not less than 
sixty thousand, and of money not less than sixty 
millions — a sum greater by twenty times than all 
this Christian nation contributes for the purposes 
of education, for the maintenance and propagation 
of the Gospel. Is this to eat and drink to the 
glory of God ? Alas ! it becomes us to exclaim 
with Ezra, " I blush, and am ashamed to lift up my 
head." May God give us grace to amend our 
ways and doings, as those whom Christ charges 
with the care of His own sacred cause and of His 
Father's glory ! 

It was a precious legacy Jesus bestowed on 
John, the best-loved of the disciples, in His mother. 
Before His conception, Gabriel, leaving the throne 
of God, winged his way down to Mary's door, tq 



OUR CHIEF END— THE GLORY OF GOD. 247 

astonish the humble virgin, not more by his ap- 
pearance than by this strange address — " Hail, 
thou that art highly favored ! the Lord is with 
thee : blessed art thou among women." After His 
conception, but before His birth, her cousin, whom 
she had gone to visit, received Mary as if she had 
been a queen — " Blessed," cried Elizabeth, as she 
gazed on her face, perhaps bent lowly at her feet, 
" blessed art thou among women, and blessed is 
the fruit of thy womb. And whence is this to me, 
that the mother of my Lord should come to me ?" 
After His birth, the aged Simeon stood on the 
verge of another world, and holding the blessed 
babe in his withered arms, poured forth a strain 
equally inspired in its heavenly source and lofty in 
its glorious import ; only that it closed with words 
of ominous meaning. A sword is to pierce the 
mother's soul. What sword ? Long a mystery to 
Mary, the hour has come that it ceases to be so. 
It is now unsheathed, glittering before her dazzled 
eyes, buried in her quivering heart. Jesus, her 
Son, is hanging on the bloody tree, and dies amid 
the scorn of man, and to appearance under the 
wrath of God. The sword is piercing her soul. 
Jesus sees it ; and all the son is moved within Him. 
Pattern to the children of men, He forgets His own 
sorrows in His mother's ; and, turning His eye from 
her fainting form to fix it on John, He commits her 
to the tenderest, kindest, and best-loved of His 
disciples, in these touching and most expressive 
words — " Behold thy mother !" A precious charge 
indeed ! What danger was not John ready to face, 
what sacrifices to submit to, what self-denial and 
hardship to endure, that he might supply the 



248 OUR father's business. 

wants of Mary, and shield a head so honored from 
the storms and ills of life ! 

Had this legacy been bequeathed to us from the 
cross where He hung, bleeding to save us, had 
Jesus with dying look and voice committed His 
mother to our charge, He had not committed to us 
a trust more precious than we have. Christians 
have, indeed, a still greater, dearer charge. I 
speak not of pastors, to whom Christ says, " Feed 
my sheep, feed my lambs/' — of those, the ministers 
of the Gospel, to whose care, in souls purchased 
by His dying blood, He has committed 

Treasures greater far 
Than east or west unfold ; — 

nor of parents, to whom, as He commits in each 
child a,n immortal spirit to their guardian arms, He 
says, in the words of Pharaoh's daughter, " Nurse 
this child for me !" Not to one and another, not 
to this or that class, but to all His people, without 
distinction of age, office, or rank, He has committed 
the sacred cause of His own and of His Father's 
glory. How great the responsibility, how weighty, 
as well as how honorable, the charge of the 
humblest Christian ! And since according to the 
tenor of his life God will be honored, or dis- 
honored ; since the divine glory will thereby be 
either promoted, or hindered ; since sinners will 
thereby be either drawn to religion, or driven from 
it ; since the hands of ministers will thereby be 
either strengthened, or weakened ; and since in 
God's providence souls will thereby be either lost 
or saved, and the Christian himself become to 
others either the savor of death unto death, or 



OUR CHIEF END— THE GLORY OF GOD. 249 

the savor of life unto life — how should God's 
people feel the solemnity and awfulness of their 
position ? Let them put forth their utmost efforts, 
and put up their most earnest prayers, that they 
may make their light so to shine before men that 
God may be glorified — that others may see their 
good works, and glorify their Father which is in 
heaven 



2*0 OUR FATHERS BUSINESS. 



I HAVE somewhere read the story of a man — if 
he was worthy of the name — who, though possess- 
ing large stores of food, kept them concealed 
amid the horrors of a famine ; shut up while 
hundreds of unhappy creatures were perishing at 
his door. He heard the wail of children crying for 
bread when their mothers had none to give them ; 
he heard the loud clamor of the maddened multi- 
tude ; he saw women with infants on their withered 
bosoms fall fainting in the street ; he saw gaunt 
and famished men fiercely fighting over a bone, 
like hungry dogs ; and while to such as in sepul- 
chral tones, with hollow eye and sunken cheek, 
implored his pity, he replied, " Alas ! I have 
nothing to bestow," this wretch was calculating 
the wealth — the cursed, filthy lucre — he would 
gain by opening his stores when prices and the 
famine were at their highest. His crime against 
humanity, not to say religion, was terrible ; and 
not less terrible its punishment — the wages of his 
sin, death in a most appalling form. In some way 
or other, the secret of his well-stocked granaries 
and cruel selfishness became known ; and instead 
of rushing for food, famishing as they were, the 
people rose, as one man, for vengeance — forgetting 
their hunger to wreak their fury on this monster* 



OUR CHIEF END — THE GOOD OF MAN. 2$1 

Their first impulse was to tear him in pieces ; 
limb from limb. They took a calmer, deeper, 
more terrible revenge. He had refused them 
bread. They would place him where there was 
bread enough and to spare — not however, to 
gratify his eyes and appetite, to appease the pangs 
of hunger, and, returning good for evil, illustrate 
the blessed rule, " If thine enemy hunger, feed 
him ; if he thirst, give him drink ; and in so doing 
thou wilt heap coals of fire upon his head." Hav- 
ing carried him to one of his own storehouses, 
with food in abundance on every side, within an 
inch of his fingers stretched to the full, there they 
left him, nailed to the floor — bread, bread every- 
where, but not a bit to eat — dooming him to pine 
away amid unavailing cries, and die of famine in 
the midst of plenty. A tragedy indeed ! — and a 
terrible illustration of the law of nature, and what 
to a certain extent is also the law of every human 
government, this, namely, an eye for an eye ; a 
tooth for a tooth ; hunger for hunger ; and life for 
life. 

This man's crime may have deserved severe 
punishment at the hands of society. I do not say 
it did not, for in such circumstances who would 
listen to the plea, Have not I a right to do what I 
will with my own ? But without entering on that 
point, and to deal with the case simply on the 
principles of Christianity, what course would she 
have dictated ? Not certainly that, nor any such 
terrible and tragic revenge. No other course, in- 
deed, but such as Jesus Christ, her Founder and our 
Pattern, would Himself have taken. If any man, 
He says, would be my disciple, let him take up his 



252 OUR father's business. 

cross, deny himself daily, and follow me ; a rule 
which resolves itself into this — Speak as Christ, 
had He been in our circumstances, would have 
spoken ; feel as He would have felt ; act as He 
would have acted. Now, had Nazareth in his day 
been the town where this famine raged, and where 
with others He and Mary had seen neighbors die 
of want, and had themselves felt the pinch of 
hunger, does any one suppose that when the wild 
mob, yelling for vengeance, rushed along the street 
to wreak it on the author of their calamities, that 
Jesus would have thrown Himself into the throng — 
to head them, or even as a mere spectator of such 
vengeance, to stand by, and, without a look of pity 
or a word of remonstrance, see the wretched man 
fastened to the floor in sight but out of reach of 
bread ? When I fancy Nazareth the place of such 
sufferings and such a tragedy, I fancy that I see 
Him leave His workshop, and hurry to the scene. 
Though foreseeing the time when He Himself shall 
be condemned to a death as cruel, and not one voice 
to say, Crucify Him not, yet in my fancy He presses 
to the front to place Himself between the clamorous, 
famished, frantic, furious multitude and the pale 
crouching, trembling, speechless victim of their 
vengeance ; and there to my eye, calm and majestic 
as He stood one night amid the raging waves of 
Galilee, He rebukes the murderous passions of the 
multitude, saying, Peace, be still — Vengeance is 
mine, I will repay, saith the Lord. Weeping the 
loss of Lazarus, Mary's first words to Jesus were, 
Lord, if Thou hadst been here, my brother had not 
died : nor had that man had Christ been there — 
or Christianity been there. For though nature, 



OUR CHIEF END — THE GOOD OF MAN. 253 

fallen and unrenewed nature, hates her enemies, 
and, thirsting for vengeance, would drag them from 
the horns of the altar, Christianity embraces the 
bitterest foe in the arms of brotherhood. Present 
in a scene where there were ample stores and a 
man, wretch and monster though he was, famishing 
of hunger, she would have lifted in her hand the 
cross radiant with the love of God and red with 
the blood of Him who came not to kill His 
enemies but be killed for them, to ask, as 
she protested against this terrible retaliation, 
" Whoso hath this world's goods, and seeth his 
brother in need, and shutteth his bowels of com- 
passion from him, how dwelleth the love of God in 
him ?" 

Besides the glory of God, another grand End for 
which we should live, as this, and many other 
passages, and I may say all Scripture, teaches, is the 
good of others. An end this which we shall be 
the better able to keep in view, and reach, by 
forming a correct and sufficiently large idea of 
what is meant by the term brother, as employed by 
our Lord and His apostles. Now, when our Lord 
was, on one occasion, addressing the people, some 
hearer on the outskirts of the crowd interrupted 
Him, to say, " Behold thy mother and thy brethren 
stand without, desiring to speak with thee !" As 
when the lilies bloomed at His feet ; or a little bird, 
free of care, sat sweetly singing on a bending 
spray ; or a sower, girt with sheet, paced the 
furrows of a neighboring field, flinging the corn 
broadcast from his hand ; or the valley stood below, 
with two houses by its brawling stream, one a ruin 
on a bank of sand, the other weather-beaten and 



a$4 our father's business. 

gray with age, yet firmly planted on a rock whose 
sides the flood was vainly chafing — so here our 
Lord seized the opportunity this interruption offered 
to teach an important truth. To the man's appeal 
and the people's astonishment, Jesus returns this 
memorable answer, " Who is my mother, and who 
are my brethren ?" adding, as He stretches forth 
His hand and points to His disciples, " Behold my 
mother and my brethren ; for whosoever shall do 
the will of my Father which is in heaven, the same 
is my brother, and sister, and mother !" Was our 
Lord a stranger to filial or fraternal affection that 
He spoke what seems to slight the dearest rela- 
tionships ; and on another occasion, addressed His 
mother not by that endearing term, but irreverent 
and unrespectful-like, said, Woman, my hour is 
not yet come ? By no means — as His life's last, 
dark closing hours bear witness. It is said that 
the ruling passion is strong in death — hence the 
dying scholar has been heard muttering classic odes 
in place of David's psalms ; hence the old soldier 
has fancied himself once more on the field of battle, 
and put forth his remaining strength, ere he sank 
back in death on his pillow, to raise a feeble arm, 
and wave a swordless hand, and, startling the 
onlookers, thunder out the charge ; and hence also 
when death had struck him from the helm, the last 
words of the statesman, ere he sank, have been of 
the fortunes of his country. And if the ruling 
passion be strong in death, I am willing that our 
Lord should be judged by this test. When that 
alabaster box was broken, what precious spikenard 
breathed forth to fill the Church and world with 
its fragrance ? Judged by this test, never mothei 



OUR CHIEF END— THE GOOD OF MAN. 255 

had a more tender son than our Lord ; His last, 
loving, living looks were turned on Mary, and He 
would seem amid the agony of the cross, to have 
forgotten His own sufferings in sympathy with 
hers. 

Understood aright, our Lord's words do not 
weaken our household ties. Their purpose was 
not to under-value the relationships of nature, but 
to exalt and magnify those of grace ; to teach us 
that Jesus Christ regards the humblest, poorest, 
feeblest saint as a brother or a sister — more still, as 
dear to His heart, as His own mother. And this 
relationship which, by faith, unites Him and His 
believing people in such close and tender and holy 
fellowship, so unites them to each other that in 
whatever circumstances they meet, by signs secret 
to the uninitiated and outer world, they recognize 
in each other the character and the claims of 
brethren. His skin may have a hue different from 
mine ; bred for the market, he may be bought and 
sold like a cattle-beast ; he may be marked with the 
brand, loaded with the fetters, lashed with the whip, 
crushed with the sufferings of a slave ; but if, with 
faith in Jesus, he lift his manacled hands and 
streaming eyes to that heaven where bondsmen are 
free, and, robed and throned, they stand before the 
throne of God, and share in the glory of His Son, 
slave though he be, sold though he be, trodden in 
the dust though he be, he and I are brothers. 
With the same God for our Father, the same 
Saviour for our Elder Brother, the same Spirit for 
our heavenly Comforter, one cross for the anchor 
of our hope, one Bible for our guide-book, one 
heaven for our everlasting home, the Gospel tells 



2$6 OUR father's business. 

me to knock off a brother's fetters, — to loose him 
and let him go. No tie is so endearing and en- 
during as that of a common love to Christ : and so 
by that I may be bound in closer fellowship to a 
man living in the other end of the world than to my 
next-door neighbor, to foreigners than to fellow- 
countrymen, to the black man than to his white 
proprietor and cruel oppressor. And thus, in yon- 
der fields, where the negro man bleeds under his 
master's lash, or the negro mother weeps, vainly 
seeking to protect a daughter from brutal violence, 
I may witness the scene that set Moses on fire, 
when he saw an Egyptian smiting a Hebrew, and, 
smiting the Egyptian, buried him in the sand. 
Hence in living not only for the glory of God, but 
for the good of others, we are, because they are 
brethren in Christ, to regard those who are of the 
household of the faith as having the first claim on 
our attention and sympathy, on our help and 
charity, on our prayers and pity. Who hurts them 
hurts, and who helps them helps, Christ Himself. 
Inasmuch, He says, as ye did it unto one of the 
least of these, ye did it unto me ! 

But though the people and saints of God have 
the first, they have by no means the only claim on 
our good offices. All mankind are bone of our 
bone, and flesh of our flesh. Unhappily buried with 
us in the ruins of the fall, but also mercifully 
embraced in the covenant of salvation, those against 
whom equally with us Justice closed the gates of 
Eden, but to whom equally with us Mercy opened 
the door of heaven, the lowest savage that roams 
his forest may address us saying, " Am not I a 
brother?" nay, the vilest creature that nightly 



OUR CHIEF END — THE GOOD OF MAN. 257 

prowls the street for prey, " Am not I a sister ?" 
And — for piety toward God is the true parent of 
pity toward man — if imbued with the love and 
spirit of Jesus, the sight of a fellow-creature suffer- 
ing, and by the mouth of every wound imploring 
help, transforms me into a good Samaritan. Nature 
as well as grace, has her claims ; and they most 
adorn the doctrine of God their Saviour whose 
benevolence, irrespective of creed, color, country, 
or even character, rises like the sun, and falls like 
the sunshine upon all. When a French frigate 
pierced by our well-directed, crashing shot, settled 
down into the sea and left her survivors to struggle 
with death among the waves, it gave occasion to 
one of those heroic incidents that shed a gleam of 
light on the horrors of war. The men who had 
sunk her, and had other ships yet to fight, threw 
themselves into their boats ; and, heedless of the 
battle that thundered over and the shot that fell 
around them, pulled for the drowning, and with the 
very arms that had wrought the deadly guns 
plucked their enemies from a watery grave. Nature 
made her voice heard above the roar of cannon. 
What was it to our rough but kindly seamen that 
the head they pulled for belonged to a foe, and a 
Frenchman ? Frenchman and foe, it was a fellow- 
creature perishing. And in the presence of such a 
spectacle we should blush for the Christianity of 
a man who, with the sight of suffering before his 
eyes and the power to relieve it in his hands, leaves 
any fellow-creature to suffer ; passing by on the 
other side. He may be robed in the habits of a priest, 
he may fill the office of a Levite, but with God's 
showers and sunshine falling alike on the evil and 

17 



258 OUR father's business. 

good, and with God's Son hung on the bloody cross 
for the chief of sinners, to such a man I may well 
apply the question, " How dwelleth the love of 
God in him ?" 

Now, the wants and woes of the world present 
abundant opportunities of living for the good of 
others. Speaking only of the poor, The poor, said 
our Lord, ye have always with you ; and, apart 
from the numerous, too numerous cases of poverty 
that result from vice or improvidence, many have 
a hard struggle to live — to keep body and soul 
together. I have known some come to church on 
Sabbath without having broken their fast ; I have 
known mothers sing their infants asleep that they 
might forget their hunger in its sweet oblivion ; I 
have found old age shivering by a cold, black 
hearth ; I have seen an emaciated form lift its 
skinny arm and shake its thin gray locks to say, 
when I spoke of Jesus, " I am cold and hungry, 
nor can think of aught else." This was sad : but, 
alas ! many from year's end to year's end, espe- 
cially in the dark squalid quarters of large cities, 
have a constant struggle for the bare necessaries of 
life. Objects of sympathy more than of censure, 
they are sorely tempted to forget the great question, 
" What shall I do to be saved ?" in these — sug- 
gested by hunger, squalid rags, and empty cup- 
boards — " What shall I eat ? what shall I drink ? 
wherewithal shall I be clothed ?" To relieve such 
poverty alleviates suffering ; but more, and in the 
light of eternity better still, rolls away the stone 
that shuts up the grave of a soul, and stands, like 
that at the mouth of Lazarus's tomb, between the 
living and dead. Nor, as I have seen with my 



OUR CHIEF END— THE GOOD OF MAN. 259 

own eyes in these abodes, is bread that perisheth 
the only, or the greatest want. How many Bibles 
stand in pawnbrokers' windows ? — they who for 
bread have parted with the Word of Life, excusing 
themselves almost in the language of Esau, when, 
addressing one who took unbrotherly advantage of 
his wants to buy his birthright for a mess of pottage, 
the hungry hunter said, u Behold, I am at the point 
to die, and what profit shall this birthright be to 
me ?" 

But thousands, millions of our fellow-creatures 
present us with opportunities of living for their 
good in matters of yet higher moment. In heathen, 
in some so-called Christian lands, what multitudes 
are perishing for want of the Word and Bread of 
Life ? Nor is their case the better, but the worse, 
that they are insensible to their needs — unlike the 
hungry man who works for bread, begs for it, will 
even steal for it, ay, sometimes murder for it. 
Their miseries, if not their mouths cry, Come over 
and help us ! And with our prayers contributing 
our money in the shape of Bibles and of teachers, 
in answer to this appeal, ready, while we sit at 
home at ease, to encounter all dangers, and even 
death itself, — we should be happy, had we millions, 
to spend them in a cause for which the Son of God 
spent His life, and poured out His life's blood on 
Calvary. 

Now in aiming at the good of others as one 
grand end of life, we are to pursue it in an unselfish, 
generous, brotherly way, — allowing our benevo- 
lence neither to be tied down by the conventional 
rules of the world, nor tainted by its commercial 
spirit. Our Lord puts this strongly, or rather most 



26o OUR FATHER'S BUSINESS. 

strikingly, where He says, " When thou makest 
a feast, or a supper, call not thy friends, nor thy 
brethren, nor thy kinsmen, nor thy rich neighbors, 
lest they also bid thee again, and a recompense be 
made thee : but when thou makest a feast call the 
poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind, and thou 
shalt be blessed ; for they cannot recompense thee, 
for thou shalt be recompensed at the resurrection 
of the just." But who ever saw such a feast ? The 
poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind, — these we 
receive at the door where they knock with timid 
hand, and, in some small coin, in bread, or broken 
victuals, receive their alms. But who invites them 
further ; ushers them in ; receives them as welcome 
guests into the house, where, treated with frank, 
respectful kindness, they find a seat at his table, 
and servants to stand at their back ? 

No doubt the Church of Rome, as children play 
at feasts or mimic fights, plays at this thing. I 
have seen the Pope, a mere play-actor, entertaining 
pilgrims at his table, where, divested of triple crown 
and gorgeous robes, he gave each with his own 
jewelled hand a piece of bread and a cup of wine. 
The ceremony is performed once a year, and is 
nothing but a drama — the time, Holy Week ; the 
stage, St. Peter's ; the actors, the Pope and pil- 
grims ; and the spectators a brilliant assembly 
— monarchs, princes, cardinals, priests of all ranks, 
monks of all colors, and a swaying, fashionable 
crowd met to see him who claims the right to put 
his foot on the neck of kings, go through a mockery 
of Christian lowliness and hospitality. But, while 
the Pope may be said to carry out our Lord's 
instructions in empty mockery, who does it ii> 






OUR CHIEF END — THE GOOD OF MAN. 26l 

reality ? Who would, would astonish society more 
than by a crime. Let a man invite such guests to 
dinner, and how people would stop, and stare, and 
gape with wonder at the stream of poverty creeping 
along and pouring in at his open door — the lame 
hobbling on crutches, the blind led by dog or little 
child, the widow clad in rusty weeds, the pooi 
outcast with rags on her back and at her bosom a 
shrivelled infant, children, shivering and shoeless, 
from streets their haunt by day, from dingy dens 
and cellars their cold homes by night ! Not won- 
dered at only, and supposed by many to be mad, 
the man who dare do this, who would render a 
literal obedience to Christ's command, might pre- 
pare for no measured censure — people saying, this 
was to turn the world upside down ; to spoil the 
poor ; to inflate them with notions unbefitting their 
condition ; to destroy the lines of demarcation 
which God in His providence had drawn between 
the different classes of society. What a talk such 
a feast would make ! — how many, more ready to 
tread the poor down in the dust than raise them 
out of it, would condemn it as a piece of mis- 
chievous ostentation, the empty parade of charity ! 
Nevertheless, why should it not be tried ? It is 
said of the excellent Lord Chief Justice Hale, that 
he frequently invited his poor neighbors to dinner, 
and made them sit at table with himself. If any 
of them were sick, so that they could not come, he 
would send provisions to them warm from his own 
table. He did not confine his bounties to the poor 
of his own parish, but diffused supplies to the 
neighboring parishes as occasion required. He 
always treated the old, the needy, and the sick, 



262 OUR FATHER'S BUSINESS. 

with the tenderness and familiarity that became 
one who considered they were of the same nature 
with himself, and were reduced to no other neces- 
sities but such as he himself might be brought to. 
Common beggars he considered in another view. 
If any of these met him in his walks, or came to 
his door, he would ask such as were capable of 
working why they went about so idly ? If they 
answered that it was because they could not get 
employment, he would send them to some field, to 
gather all the stones in it, and lay them in a heap ; 
and then paid them liberally for their trouble. 
This being done, he used to send his carts, and 
cause the stones to be carried to such places of the 
highway as needed repair. 

As to turning the world upside down, that charge 
was brought against the apostles ; and, as were 
true of a pyramid pitched by earthquake or other 
convulsion of nature on its apex, the world, which 
sin has set wrong, will never be right till things are 
turned upside down — till Eternity takes the place 
of time, the soul of the body, the Saviour of sin, 
self-denial of self-indulgence, and the despised and 
neglected poor are treated as brothers — neighbors 
whom we are to love as we love ourselves, or rather 
whom we are to love as Christ loved us. 

Then again as to ostentation, while all care 
should be taken that our good is not evil-spoken 
of, we are not to cease to do good because it may 
be so. Conscious that it is only sovereign grace 
which makes them differ from others, none are less 
likely to make a parade of their good works than 
God's people. Indeed, I have known some of these 
run into the opposite extreme — forgetting that the 



OUR CHIEF END— -THE GOOD OF MAN. 263 

light which flashes over the sea from lighthouse 
tower on rugged headland or sunken rock, is not 
kindled to be hid, but seen. A candle, as our Lord 
says, is set on a candlestick, not under a bushel, 
that it may light the house ; and, however singular 
our conduct may appear to the world, or whatever 
occasion it may afford scoffers to sneer, the 
Christian should never allow himself to be de- 
terred from obeying his Master's behests, following 
in his Leader's steps, and so making his light to 
shine that, not he, but his Father in heaven, may 
be glorified. 

It would certainly look singular, while others 
dole out their charity at the door, or send it by 
servants or societies to the homes of the poor, were 
we to invite them into ours. But one of the cha- 
racteristics of disciples is, that they are a peculiar 
people, and Jesus, be it remembered, taught His 
followers that they ought to do many things not 
done by others — saying, "What do ye more 
than others ?" " Except your righteousness ex- 
ceed that of the Scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in 
no wise enter into the kingdom of heaven." By 
all means avoid whatever could countenance vice 
or encourage improvidence ; but let there be more 
interchange of personal kindness between the rich 
and poor. I am sure that the sight of worn-out 
labor, sad and humble widowhood, helpless 
orphans, and such objects, victims of poverty and 
objects of pity, as our Lord recommends, sitting all 
happy at our table, with gratitude burning in their 
hearts and beaming in their faces, would afford us a 
purer satisfaction than the highest company we ever 
entertained. Verily we should have our reward. 



264 our father's business. 

True, it may be said, we do this, but after another 
fashion — through workhouses, hospitals, houses 
of refuge, asylums, ragged schools, and other such 
benevolent institutions. Yet these, which form 
part of the debt the world owes to Christianity, are 
but an imperfect method of expressing the love 
which she inculcates, of doing in fullest measure 
good to others. This object cannot be accom- 
plished but by the direct intercourse of personal 
visits — those we pay to the poor in their dwellings, 
or, as our Lord recommends, those they pay to us 
in ours. It is less the amount given than the way 
of giving it, that sweetens the cup of poverty and 
reconciles the pensioners of our bounty to their 
lot. There are delicate perfumes that owe their 
fragrance to elements so volatile and etherial, that 
much of their virtue is lost when they are poured 
from one vessel to another. So it is with charity, 
the pleasure it yields, and the gratitude it awakens. 
Those kind looks and tones which bespeak the 
feelings of the heart, you cannot transmit with the 
goods or gold, the meat or messages, which you 
send through the medium of servants or societies, 
or any second party whatever. As far as possible, 
therefore, every one should be the almoner of his 
own charities, and carry the sunbeams of his pre- 
sence into the homes of the poor. 

Let me remark further, that I fear we have not 
faith enough in the literal sense of many of our 
Lord's injunctions, as is touchingly illustrated by 
the following fact : Two boys, brothers, had fallen 
out, and in the heat and whirlwind of his passion 
the elder struck the younger on the cheek. Brave 
as steel and quick as lightning the other raised his 



OUR CHIEF END — THE GOOD OF MAN. gj% 

arm to return the blow ; but ere it fell, he remem- 
bered how he had read that morning by his 
mother's knee these words, " When one smites thee 
on the one cheek, turn to him the other also." No 
sophist, but a simple child who took Christ's words 
in their plain and ordinary sense, he drops his arm, 
and turning on his brother eyes where tears of 
forgiveness had quenched the flash of anger, he 
offered the other cheek for a second blow. It was 
the other's turn to weep now. Surprised, subdued, 
melted, he fell on his brother's neck ; and, kissing 
him, acknowledged his offence and implored for- 
giveness. And there, locked in fond embraces, the 
two boys stood a living proof of this, that our 
Lord's highest and apparently most impracticable 
injunctions admit of a more literal obedience than 
any give them, and than any almost suppose it 
possible to give them. 

Our Lord himself teaches us by His own example 
how we are to live for others, and reach this one 
grand end of life. He laid down His life for us, nor 
are we to shrink from doing the same for others. 
The world has made her boast of men who, for 
suffering kindred and bleeding country, have risked 
and even lost their lives. And indeed there are 
few worthy of the name of men who, did they see a 
fellow-creature sending forth wild shrieks and 
stretching out suppliant hands from the window of 
a blazing house, would not shake off such as sought 
to detain them, and bursting open the door, rush in 
to save another's life at the peril of their own. And 
when the ship, hurled by a tempest on the foaming 
reef, lies off shore with the waves sweeping her 
deck, and her crew, lashed to the masts or hanging 



266 our father's BUSINESS. 

on by the shrouds, implore help in cries heard 
above the roar of breakers, are not brave men 
found to volunteer for the rescue, and throw them- 
selves into the life-boat ; risking their own lives to 
save the lives of others ? But thus to peril life 
and to lay it down, as he does who takes another's 
place on the fatal drop, are different, very different 
things. I will find you a thousand men who will 
do the first for one you will find to do the second. 
Yet this is that which the example of Christ may 
call us to do for the good of others. Hereby, says 
the apostle, know we the love of God because He 
laid down His life for us ; not staked it, nor even 
lost it, but laid it down. And the sacrifice which 
the good of others may require at our hands, is not 
only to follow Jesus in those walks where He went 
about continually doing good, but follow Him when 
He took His way to Calvary, following Him to 
death. For the apostle does not conclude that we 
should part merely with our money, or luxuries, or 
ease, or comforts for the good of others, but with 
that which the devil — speaking truth for once — 
pronounced more precious than them all, saying, 
Skin for skin, all that a man hath will he give for 
his life. Because, says the apostle, speaking of our 
Lord, He laid down His life for us, we ought to lay 
down our lives for the brethren. 

Nor is our beneficence, the good we attempt to 
do to others, to be confined to limits any narrower 
than God's. It is when we bless them that curse 
us, and love them that hate us, and pray for them 
who despitefully use us, that we present the truest 
image of God, and most clearly prove ourselves to 
be the children of our Father which is in heaven. 



OUR CHIEF END— THE GOOD OF MAN. 20? 

He makes His sun to shine upon the evil and the 
good, and His rain to fall upon the just and unjust. 
But not because He could not do otherwise. Such 
miracles as that which He wrought on the fleece 
that was saturated with dew when the ground 
about it was dry, and on the following night lay 
dry on grass sown with pearls or sparkling with 
diamonds in the morning sun, He could repeat on 
all our fields — so turning the face of nature into a 
broad, patent mirror of His own secret and un- 
searchable mind, that we could tell, by the barren- 
ness or fertility of a farm, whether its tenant was, 
or was not, a man of God. As I have seen a 
gardener play the water of his engine on one tree 
and turn it away from another, God when He drives 
His cloudy chariot across the heavens, could so 
guide its motions and dispense its treasures, as to 
pour refreshing showers on the fields of one man 
while those of his neighbor were left to wither and 
die ; and He could still dispense the sunbeams 
which ripen our fruits and fill our barns, with a 
hand as powerful but as partial, as on the day 
when Goshen lay smiling in sunlight, and the 
neighboring land of Egypt was palled in darkness 
that might be felt. But who surveys a smiling 
valley from the summit of a hill sees all its fields 
alike robed in verdure or waving with golden 
harvests — God making no distinction between 
saints and sinners, but distributing His treasures of 
shower and sunshine equally to both. And thus in 
the features of the landscape not less than in the 
pages of the Bible, in the common providence as 
well as in the inspired precepts of God, we learn to 
embrace all men in the arms of Christian affection, 



268 OUR father's business. 

and, without excluding even our bitterest enemies 
to do them good as we have opportunity. This, 
the peculiar glory of Christianity and grand lesson 
of the Cross, shines bright in every sunbeam, and 
sounds in every falling shower. 



CHRISTIAN DECISION. 269 



dtjjristian ^mmim. 

INVADING armies always endeavor to leave 
their ships riding in a safe and sheltered anchorage. 
In the event of their enterprise proving unsuccess- 
ful, they thus secure the means of retreat ; and to 
provide for such an emergency is regarded as a 
good stroke of generalship. Wellington fought 
Waterloo with the forest of Soigne at his back ; 
and the fleet which carried our soldiers to fight 
the Russians before Sebastopol waited the issue in 
the Bay of Balaclava. 

The brave old Romans, whom Caesar led, 
invaded our country after a different fashion. The 
first thing they did on disembarking, was to burn 
their ships ; doing so in sight of thousands who 
were bravely mustering on the heights of England 
to defend their homes, their wives and little ones, 
their freedom and native land. Not leaving the 
enemy to cut off their retreat, they cut it off 
themselves. Their own hands put the torch to 
the fleet which had brought them to Britain, and, 
in the event of failure, would have carried them 
back to Italy. With the glare of that brave 
conflagration on their eagles, banners, and serried 
ranks, we cannot wonder that, with such sons to 
fig it her battles, Rome rose from a petty town to 
be mistress of the world. Both her destiny and 



270 our father's business. 

their determination were to be plainly seen in the 
blaze of their burning ships. Bringing to the 
enterprise such an indomitable spirit and such 
decision of character, unless the stars of heaven 
fought against them as against Sisera, how could 
they fail to conquer ? 

Such is the resoluteness of mind and purpose 
the Christian's work requires ; nor without some 
good measure of that, as well as of the grace and 
Spirit of God, can it be brought to a successful 
issue. On engaging in our Father's business — 
entering on the trials and triumphs of the Christian 
life, we also are, so to speak, to burn our ships, nor 
so much as think of retreat. Abandoning for ever 
any idea of returning to sin, we are to leave no 
way open but that which, though beset with trials 
and swarming with foes, leads straight on to 
heaven — God's language to us being that He held 
by the Red Sea when He said to Moses, "Why 
criest thou unto me ? Speak unto the children of 
Israel that they go forward !" 

Decision of character and promptitude of action, 
qualities so important on board ship in a storm, in 
the manoeuvring of troops in battle, are indis- 
pensable to the Christian life — both to our getting 
through the " strait gate," and our getting on in 
the " narrow way." How often, for example, does 
it happen that to hesitate even for one moment 
between resisting and yielding to temptation is to 
fall ? The battle is lost in that moment of vacil- 
lation. In such cases, our safety lies in coming to 
an immediate decision ; in promptly resolving to 
dally with the tempter not an instant, to flee if we 
can, and if we cannot flee to fight — so resisting the 



CHRISTIAN DECISION. 2f\ 

devil that if we cannot flee from him, he shall flee 
from us, and leave us, as when he spread out his 
wings and, vanquished at all points, relieved our 
Lord of his hateful presence, in possession of the 
field. That we may be conquerors, and more 
than conquerors, through Him that loved us, our 
Lord calls for the highest decision of character, 
warning us against even a recreant thought. No 
man, He says, having put his hand to the plough, 
and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God ; 
and His apostles use expressions that almost 
warrant us to say that He opposes our return to 
the world and sin in a way to recall another grand 
and very remarkable incident in the history of 
ancient Rome. 

Disheartened by the extraordinary dangers and 
difficulties of their enterprise, one of her armies 
lost courage, and resolved on a retreat. The 
general reasoned with his soldiers. Expostulating 
with them, he appealed to their love of country, to 
their honor, and to their oaths. By all that could 
revive a fainting heart he sought to animate their 
courage and shake their resolution. Much they 
trusted, the}'' admired, they loved him, but his 
appeals were all in vain. They were not to be 
moved ; and carried away, as by a panic, they 
faced round to retreat. At that juncture they 
were forcing a mountain pass ; and had just cleared 
a gorge where the road, between stupendous rocks 
on one side and a foaming river on the other, was 
but a footpath, — broad enough for the step of a 
single man. As a last resort he laid himself down 
there, saying, " If you will retreat, it is over this 
body you go, trampling me to death beneath your 



2/2 OUR FATHER'S BUSINESS. 

feet." No foot advanced. The flight was arrested 
His soldiers could face the foe ; but not mangle 
beneath their feet one who loved them, and had 
often led their ranks to victory — sharing like a 
common soldier all the hardships of the campaign, 
and ever foremost in the fight. The sight was 
one to inspire them with decision. Hesitating no 
longer to advance, they wheeled round to resume 
their march ; deeming it better to meet sufferings 
and endure even death itself than trample under 
foot their devoted and patriot leader. Their hearts 
recoiled from such an outrage. But for such as 
have named the name of Christ not to depart from 
iniquity, for such as have enlisted under His banner 
to go back to the world, for such as have re- 
nounced sin to return to its pleasures, involves a 
greater crime. A more touching spectacle bars 
our return. Jesus, as it were, lays Himself down on 
our path : nor can any become backsliders, and 
return to the practice and pleasures of sin without 
treading Him under their feet. These, Paul's very 
words, call up a spectacle from which every lover 
of Jesus should recoil with horror : " If he," says 
that apostle, " who despised Moses' law died with- 
out mercy, of how much sorer punishment, suppose 
ye, shall He be thought worthy who hath trodden 
under foot the Son of God ?" 

Decision of character in maintaining our Christian 
profession, adhering to its principles, and perform- 
ing its duties, is of such value in our Lord's eyes, 
that He regards those as His enemies who vacillate 
between good and evil — hesitating which to choose ; 
Him or the world. " He," says Jesus, " who is not 
with me is against me ;" and elsewhere, preferring 



CHRISTIAN DECISION. 273 

open enemies to doubtful friends, He speaks to the 
same effect — " I would that thou wert either cold 
or hot ; so then, because thou art lukewarm, and 
neither cold nor hot, I will spue thee out of my 
mouth." 

It is not difficult to sympathize with our Lord 
in this matter. Seeing how a good cause may 
suffer worse things than opposition, and have to 
encounter greater dangers than any that come 
from declared and open enemies, we understand 
His feelings. If God temper the storm and restrain 
the remainder of wrath, there are worse things 
than persecution and opposition. When shepherds, 
to improve the pastures of the hills and cover them 
with sweet young grass, set the heather on fire, 
they choose for that purpose not a calm, but a 
breezy day. Fanned by the wind, and catching 
fresh fuel as it advances, the flame which under a 
serene sky might have smouldered and died out, is 
blown into a blaze ; and borne on from height to 
height in rolling fiery billows, ere long it wraps the 
mountains in clouds of smoke and broad sheets of 
flame. Not less favorable to the progress and 
final triumph of God's cause has been the oppo- 
sition it had to sustain. 

For example, look at the reformation of religion 
in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. It was 
kindled into vehemence by the opposition that was 
made to it ; and, advancing against Popery and 
its institutions with the rapidity and ravages of 
burning flames, it speedily spread over almost the 
whole continent of Europe. To correct some 
errors of the Popish system, to lop off one excres- 
cence here and another there, was the utmost 

18 



274 OUR FATHER'S BUSINESS. 

which Luther at the outset contemplated. Per* 
mitted to do that, the German monk would 
probably have resumed his cowl, and returned to 
his monastery, to waste his life amid its quiet 
cloisters, and at length expire, in what his Church 
called " the odor of sanctity." It was not so. We 
have to bless God that it was not so ; and that 
Rome was left in judicial blindness to resist all 
reform. The monk must be crushed ! Resolved 
on this, she launched her thunders at his head, and 
sought to quench the truth he spake in the blood 
of its dauntless advocate. This roused all the man 
in the monk. The opposition Luther met with 
drove him onward from one bold step to another. 
The more closely he examined Popery, the more 
rotten the whole system seemed ; the discovery of 
its errors kept pace with the discussion ; and, like 
a man borne on the bosom of arapid and powerful 
stream, it was not long till Luther found himself 
far in advance of the point from which he started, 
— far ahead of the petty ends on which he was 
originally bent. The man who sought at first but 
to lop off some rotten branches, is ere long, to the 
astonishment of a world whom his blows have 
wakened from centuries of slumber, seen boldly 
standing before the tree itself — burying his axe 
deep in its sides, and making all Europe ring with 
the stout blows he delivered on its roots. 

So, though intended for evil, the Lord has often 
turned opposition into good. Indeed, in observing 
how little Christ's cause has sometimes suffered 
from its avowed enemies, and how often the very 
means they employed to hinder have helped it on, 
I have thought of the eagle, which rises slowly 



CHRISTIAN DECISION. 275 

amid the calm of serene and sunny skies ; but, 
spreading its wings to the storm and turning even 
adverse winds to advantage, soars aloft in tempests 
that strike other birds with dismay, darken the 
face of heaven, and roar through the troubled air. 
God so makes the wrath of man to praise Him, 
and restrains the remainder of wrath, that the 
almost uniform experience of His Church and 
people has been that of Israel in the land of 
Egypt, — " the more they were afflicted, the more 
they multiplied and grew." The worst enemies of 
a cause are false friends. Give me the opposition 
that, acting like the wind, blows zeal into a brisk 
and burning flame, rather than that cold, callous, 
selfish indifference, which our forefathers denounced 
as " damnable neutrality." The only effect which 
they who hesitate, vacillate, show no decision of 
character, have on a good cause, is to injure it 
more than the opposition of its enemies. Though 
they do nothing against Christ, doing nothing for 
Him, standing apart, and taking no side in the 
battle, they cool the zeal, and discourage the 
ardor of its friends. Such men Jesus regards as 
foes ; saying, " He that is not with me is against 
me ; and he that gathereth not with me, scattereth 
abroad." 

On decision of character, man's best and eternal 
interest depend. Our position nearly corresponds 
to that of Israel on Carmel, when Elijah, standing 
by the mountain altar, addressed the people, 
saying, "How long halt ye between two opinions ; 
if the Lord be God, follow Him ; but if Baal, then 
follow him !" Christ with a cross, but heaven 
behind Him ; and Satan with the world glittering 



276 OUR father's business. 

in his hand, but hell flaming at his back, stand 
before us, rival candidates. Each solicits our 
hands and our heart ; and, though Satan would 
persuade us to the contrary, we must decide 
between them ; the one or other we must serve. 
In the vain hope of making much of both worlds, 
unwilling to perish, but yet unwilling to part from 
sin, many postpone their decision, and attempt to 
compromise the matter by offering these rivals a 
divided allegiance, Futile and fatal attempt I 
Man can divide his time between them, appearing 
in church on Sabbath and following pleasure on 
other days in the haunts of vice ; and even so 
divide his money, although I fancy it never was 
done, as to contribute a sum as great to churches, 
charities, and religious schemes, as what he wastes 
on selfish and guilty pleasures. Let him trim the 
scales so well that the balance shall stand even, 
and the one form a perfect counterpoise to the 
other, he cannot divide his heart as he can his 
time, wealth, influence. To divide a heart is to 
destroy it ; and to those who engage in the vain 
attempt our Lord has the old answer, " No man 
can serve two masters ; for either he will hate the 
one and love the other, or else he will hold to the 
one and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God 
and mammon." Judas tried it ; so also did Simon 
Magus ; and so did Demas ; and the result in their 
case was not certainly such as to encourage others 
to repeat the experiment. 

By such attempts Christ is more offended and 
His cause injured than by sceptics and scoffers, the 
profane and vicious, His open and avowed enemies. 
'• I would," He says, " that thou wert either cold or 



CHRISTIAN DECISION. 277 

hot ; and because thou art neither cold nor hot, I 
will spue thee out of my mouth." Nor is the 
reason far to seek. One traitor within is more to 
be dreaded than twenty foes without a city. One 
cold, selfish, narrow-minded, illiberal adherent, by 
damping the zeal of others, and setting a bad 
example, does a good cause more injury than 
almo st any number of fierce opponents. Lowering 
the standard of morals, of benevolence, and of 
piety, they who render to Christ a divided 
allegiance, inflict the deepest wounds on religion ; 
and so far as they are concerned, she has reason to 
say, Save me from my friends, and I will manage 
my enemies. If people are to love the world, let 
them wear her livery, and not assume the garb of 
followers of Christ. Let those who fight Satan's 
battles fight them under Satan's banners ; nor, 
wounding Jesus by their conformity to the world, 
their self-indulgence, and their vices, give Him 
occasion, in reply to the question, What are these 
wounds on Thy hands and feet ? to complain, 
" These are the wounds with which I was wounded 
in the house of my friends." 

Many flatter themselves that, though they are 
not saints, they cannot be justly regarded as great 
sinners. They may not be lovers of Christ or 
liberal supporters of His cause, but they cannot be 
said to walk in the way of the wicked, still less to 
sit in the chair of the scorner. Believe them, they 
have done nothing against Christ. Now suppose 
that were true, it purchases no exemption from 
the curse, " Curse ye Meroz, curse ye bitterly the 
inhabitants thereof; because they came not to 
the help of the Lord, to the help of the Lord 



278 OUR father's business. 

against the mighty." The question remains, What 
have they done for Christ and His cause ? Thi? 
their plea, that they have done nothing against 
Him, what better is it than the servant's, who, on his 
Lord's return, went and digged in the ground ; and 
from the hole drew out a napkin ; and from the 
napkin that he carefully unrolled, drew out a piece 
of money — which, the exact sum he had received 
from his master, he returned, saying, Lo, there 
thou hast that is thine ! This man had not 
betrayed his trust by wasting his master's money ; 
he had neither appropriated it to his own use, nor 
squandered it on his vices. Yet, what was the 
master's judgment on this case, — the case of one, 
who, it might be affirmed, had done nothing against 
him. " Thou wicked and slothful servant," says 
his lord, " thou knewest that I reap where I sowed 
not, and gather where I have not strewed : thou 
oughtest therefore to have put my money to the 
exchangers, and then at my coming I should have 
received my own with usury. Take therefore the 
talent from him . . . and cast ye the unprofitable 
servant into outer darkness ; there shall be weep- 
ing and gnashing of teeth !" 

With faith in Christ, we have an anchor to ride 
out the wildest storm ; blood to wash away the 
darkest sins ; a ground of confidence that will 
stand unshaken both in the hour of death and on 
the day of judgment. But, alas ! for those whose 
religion is merely negative ; whose hope lies in not 
having been great sinners like others — like the 
undisguised enemies of piety, of religion, and 
Christ. Alas for the day when they stand arraigned 
at the bar of judgment ! See how the balance 



CHRISTIAN DECISION. 2/9 

yonder turns not so much on the evil that men 
have done as on the good that they have done. 
Fixing His eyes more in pity than in anger on the 
astonished sinner, the Judge says, " I was an 
hungered, and ye gave me no meat : I was thirsty, 
and ye gave me no drink : I was a stranger, and 
ye took me not in ; . . . depart from me, ye 
cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil 
and his angels !" So perish the hopes of luke- 
warm, cold-hearted professors ! Dealing with those 
who are not for Him, as with those who are against 
Him, the Son of God spues them out of His mouth. 
Decision of character is indispensable for that 
choosing of God for our portion, of Jesus for our 
Saviour, of holiness for our life, and of heaven for 
our home, without which no man can be saved. 
These, like other objects, may be objects of our 
admiration, of our approval, and even of our 
desires, without becoming our choice. An old 
heathen said, " I see and approve the better, and 
yet follow the worse ;" and how many who call 
themselves Christians could say the same ? Here, 
good wishes, and even longing desires, are not 
enough. For example : I fancy that the drunkard 
does not live who, when he looks at his ragged 
children, and wretched wife, and the sad wreck of 
character and happiness he has brought on himself, 
and contrasts these with the prosperous, happy 
home of some temperate neighbor, does not 
approve of temperance, and wish with feelings of 
bitter remorse that he also were a sober man. 
Poor drunkard ! His judgment, heart, and con- 
science are on the side of sobriety ; yet a sober life, 
though his wish, is not his choice. His wish is 



2&> OUR FATHER'S BUSINESS. 

to cast away the damning cup, but his choke is to 
drink it ; and so, with eyes more open to the 
consequences than the fluttering bird which, fasci- 
nated by the serpent's gaze, walks right into its 
jaws, under the spell of this accursed vice he 
carries the cup to his lips ; and repenting only to 
repeat the debauch, plunges deeper and deeper 
into ruin. 

Nor are the blessings of salvation to be obtained, 
or progress made in the way of grace, by mere 
wishes or desires, or even resolutions. It is hard 
getting to heaven with such corruption as there is 
within us, and such temptations as lie without us ; 
nor will anything short of the grace of God and 
strong decision of mind be sufficient to overcome 
the torrent and tide of evil. Our godly ancestors, 
many of them, at least, when they engaged to be 
the Lord's, perhaps before going to their first 
communion, wrote out a solemn covenant, whereby, 
choosing whom they would serve and accepting of 
Jesus as their Saviour, they gave themselves over 
to God ; undertaking through Divine help, at 
whatever pain or hazard, to depart from all 
iniquity and follow the Lord wholly. And in 
these marriage contracts between the Lamb and 
his bride, the Saviour and the sinner, as they 
might be called, there is a warmth of feeling, a 
tenderness of heart, an energy and decision which 
one cannot read without applying to the pious men 
of that olden time these words of Holy Writ : 
"There were giants in those days." Yet in our 
days as well as theirs, salvation is unattainable 
without, though not perhaps such a formal, an 
equally decided choice of Christ ; such a pre- 



CHRISTIAN DECISION. 2% 1 

ference of Him over His rivals — sin, the world, and 
the flesh — as constrains the believing and happy 
soul to address Him thus : Whom have I in heaven 
but Thee ? there is none in all the earth whom I 
desire besides Thee, — dying for me on Thy bloody 
tree, waiting for me with long-suffering patience, 
winning me with such love, caressing me with such 
kindness, loading me with such favors, blessing 
me with such peace, and crowning me with such 
honors, Thou art the chiefest among ten thousand 
and altogether lovely. Thou hast given Thyself 
for me, can I do less than give myself to Thee ? 
Command, and I obey ; lead, I follow — laying 
down my sins and taking up my cross to follow ! 

It is of the utmost consequence for men to know 
if they have ever come to such a decision. Happy 
those who have made Christ their choice ; in whose 
life there was a day when with eyes divinely 
opened to behold all the graces and glory of His 
character, they held to Jesus the language of yon 
noble woman who bids farewell to home, farewell 
to friends, farewell to country, farewell to her own 
weeping sister, and says, as turning to Naomi she 
throws her arms around her, " Entreat me not to 
leave thee — for whither thou goest, I will go ; and 
where thou lodgest, I will lodge ; thy people 
shall be my people, and thy God shall be my 
God." 

Decision of character is indispensable to that 
promptitude and energy both of prayer and action 
which man's perilous circumstances imperatively 
require. The condition of an awakened and 
alarmed sinner resembles that of the shedder of 
blood to whom the cities of refuge in the land of 



282 OUR FATHER'S BUSINESS. 

Israel offered protection from the sword of tht! 
avenger. Patent roads led to these ; and how 
were they travelled by him who, throwing fearful 
glances over his shoulder, descried the form of the 
avenger, saw the gleam of the naked sword, and 
by-and-by, as the other gained on him, heard the 
panting of his breath and the tread of his foot ? 
Many a lovely flower grew by the road-side, but 
none did he pause to gather ; many a friend was 
met, but none did he pause to salute ; the hill is 
steep, but he stoutly breasts it ; the road is rough, 
but he presses its flints beneath, his bleeding feet ; 
nor draws breath, nor pauses, nor hesitates, till, 
approaching the blessed boundary, he gathers up 
his remaining strength into one great effort, and 
leaps across the line, to fall on the ground fainting, 
but saved. Did men thus toil, endure, run, fly for 
life — with this life in jeopardy ? Then what should 
be their decision of character, what their prompti- 
tude of action, what their strong, earnest crying of 
prayer, who, having Christ to seek, pardon to 
obtain, souls to be saved, eternal life to win, have a 
far greater work to do — the time allotted them to 
do it in often very short, and always very un- 
certain ? In earning their daily bread, in pro- 
moting the welfare of their families, in fulfilling the 
duties of their worldly station, men have, no doubt, 
other interests to attend to than those which 
belong to their souls and salvation. But in these 
last, which may specially be called their Father's 
business, their highest and most precious interests 
are at stake. To these, therefore, let them address 
themselves with the energy and decision of one 
who, charged with an important commission from 



CHRISTIAN DECISION. 283 

his master, replied, on being invited to refresh 
himself, "I will not eat till I have told mine 
errand !" 

So spake Eliezer of Damascus, Abraham's 
steward, when, seeking a bride for his master's 
son, he arrived at the tents of Laban, browned 
by the sun, covered with the dust, weary and worn 
with the toils of the journey. For long days his 
seat had been the camel's back ; his only couch 
the dewy ground ; his food, in dried corn or fruits, 
the barest sustenance of nature. Now, his journey 
is happily accomplished. A smoking board, tempt- 
ing his senses, stands invitingly before him ; and 
as this hungry man turns a greedy eye on the 
banquet, how many plausible reasons can he find 
for preferring the indulgence of his own appetite 
to the discharge of his master's business ! Ex- 
hausted nature plead for a period for refreshment 
and repose ; and these would require but a brief 
delay. What possible damage could Isaac's in- 
terests suffer by that ? Nay, the business might 
prosper better for it ; he himself being abler to tell 
his errand, and Laban, after pledging his guest in 
cups of generous wine, more inclined perhaps to 
lend a gracious ear to his proposals. Besides, it 
was hardly good breeding to decline this hospitable 
offer. What the one gracefully offered, the other 
should gratefully accept. Might not his refusal 
give offence to Laban ? and since " he who be- 
lieveth shall not make haste," might not the very 
piety of the good man regard such hurry as indi- 
cating a want of faith in Providence ? Besides, it 
was contrary to the polished manners of the East 
to plunge at once into the heart of business. The 



2%4 OUR FATHER'S BUSINESS. 

highest examples might be plead against such in- 
decorous haste. For did not the angels — one 
being God himself in human form, — who announced 
to Abraham the doom of Sodom, partake of his 
hospitality, and eat beneath the oak of Mamre, 
before entering on the awful business which brought 
them from the skies ? Besides, no rival was there 
soliciting Rebekah's hand. Heaven seemed to 
have granted the good man's prayer — the maiden 
had met him at the well ; she had shown him 
kindness ; she had received his presents ; and 
everything promising a happy conclusion, his busi- 
ness seemed one, if ever there was one, which could 
not suffer from a brief delay. Such reasons 
Eliezer might have urged for deferring his mission 
to his meal. Yet from all these, plausible as they 
appeared, this decided, resolute, singularly devoted 
servant, turned aside his ear, to say, as he stood by 
the untouched banquet, " I will not eat till I have 
told mine errand " — involving the happiness of my 
master, the preservation of a chosen race, the ful- 
filment of God's gracious purpose and glorious 
promises, my business brooks no delay ; who can 
tell what a day or an hour may bring forth ? 

Would God that men with equal firmness and 
promptitude repelled the less plausible arguments 
with which Satan plies them through the lusts of 
the flesh, the pleasures of the world, and the pride 
of life ! He persuades them to suspend their 
choice, and not at once embrace the offer of salva- 
tion and give themselves to Christ. But why 
should sinners who hang over perdition be per- 
suaded to delay that ? — or why should God's 
people postpone any good work they are called to 



CHRISTIAN DECISION. 285 

by duty to their Divine Master, to other men, or 
themselves ? We ought never to let a good resolu- 
tion go to sleep ; nor postpone till to-morrow what 
we can do to-day. Good in respect of earthly 
things, such decision is all-important in matters 
that concern either our own or others' souls. Let 
men make Eliezer their pattern. He stands by 
Laban's table loaded with tempting viands, as 
firm in purpose and prompt in action as if the 
success of his mission was suspended on his own 
indomitable energy ; while, as if nothing whatever 
depended on himself, but all on God, he raises his 
eyes to heaven, crying, " Oh, Lord God of my 
master Abraham, give me good speed this day !" 
And God did it. He touched the maiden's heart ; 
to her brother's question, " Wilt thou go with this 
man ?" this her frank and ready answer, " I will 
go." The steward's prayer was answered ; and so 
also will be ours, whatever we seek, be it mercy to 
pardon, or grace to help, if we seek under the 
pressure of these weighty words, " Whatsoever thy 
hand findeth to do, do it with thy might ; for there 
is no work, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, nor device, 
in the grave, whither thou goest." 



286 OUR FATHER'S BUSINESS. 



s Wtorh. 

MANY of Paul's expressions have a warlike 
ring, and suggest to our fancy soldiers who 
occupy some of those trying positions which the 
chances of war often call them bravely, and sternly, 
to hold. He says, for example, " Having done 
all, stand." Now, there is nothing, as I am told 
and believe, which puts the firmness of men to 
so severe a test as that. It requires no great 
courage to play the soldier when, in firing or 
charging, advancing or retreating, they are engaged 
in the active duties of the field ; but calmly to 
hold a position where, unsustained by excitement 
— allowed neither to fight, nor advance, nor retire 
— they have to stand exposed to the shot that 
plunges into their ranks, making bloody gaps they 
have nothing to do but fill up, this tries the 
mettle of the bravest men. For this, the highest 
soldierly quality, our countrymen are pre-eminently 
distinguished, owing some of their greatest victories 
to their power of unmoveable and heroic endurance 
under, not as in Paul's days a shower of arrows, 
but a shower of iron. Wellington is reported to 
have said of Waterloo that the battle turned on 
whether we or the French could stand pounding 
longest. Having done all, we stood ; and the day 
was ours. 



THE CHRISTIAN'S WORK. 287 

To such trials God sometimes puts His chosen 
and beloved people. After having done every- 
thing to protect themselves from the assaults of 
the Tempter, to defend their reputation, their 
purity, or peace, duty to God and His cause, duty 
to themselves or others, requires them to do no- 
thing more than just hold their post ; maintain 
their position ; patiently endure wrongs they might, 
but are not allowed to, repel ; and bear without 
complaint trials or temptations which they cannot 
avoid, and are not allowed to escape from. So 
stood Noah by the ark for many years, the butt 
and scorn of an ungodly world ; and so stood 
a greater than Noah before an infuriate crowd 
of hating, hissing, cursing, blood-thirsty enemies. 
Impeached of high treason, accused of many crimes 
which His soul abhorred, our Lord confronted the 
storm, letting it beat on His bent, innocent, blessed 
head. He stood, dumb, opening not His mouth — 
to the perplexity, and surprise, and terror of the 
Roman, answering not a word. Having done all, 
He stood — stood to be calumniated, tried, cruelly 
scourged, basely spat on, insulted with a crown 
of thorns, and condemned in the cross to a death 
of peculiar pain and infamy. He made no reply 
— offering no resistance, nor summoning the angelic 
legions that hovered above the scene, and were 
ready to descend with flaming swords to His 
rescue. 

Equally warlike is that other expression where 
Paul says, " Therefore, my beloved brethren, be 
ye steadfast, unmoveable." Be steadfast, unmove- 
able ! are such words as we can fancy addressed 
to men who have formed into square to receive 



288 OUR father's business. 

cavalry — the front rank kneeling to present a hedge 
of steel, and the next erect, with knit brows, and 
heads bent to the barrel of the musket along 
which their eye glares with deadly aim. Hurled 
on by the tempest, the wave comes swelling, 
foaming, roaring against the rock ; and so, launched 
against this serried square, comes a mass of cavalry, 
with the sun flashing on their swords and the very 
ground shaking beneath their tread. The sight 
is terrific. The shock threatens to sweep all before 
it. The moment is critical. Let the line of the 
square waver, let it break, and all is lost : the 
foe, like a whirlwind, rush in at the gap to ride 
down and cut down the men, crushing the life 
out of brave hearts beneath their horses' feet. The 
issue now turns on each man keeping his post ; 
standing to it like a tree rooted to the soil. At 
this terrible moment, just before the shock, I can 
fancy their leader, as he runs his eye along the 
grim faces of his line, calling out, " Be steadfast, 
unmoveable," ere he gives the signal which, followed 
by a loud crash of musketry, empties many a 
saddle, and rolls back that proud array in bloody 
discomfiture like a billow shattered against a 
rock. 

The Church of Christ is often placed in equally 
critical circumstances, the issues of her struggle 
depending on those who support His cause standing 
true to it and to each other. The most fatal 
results have followed the treachery or cowardice 
which, though but in a few, has broken the line ; 
their example infecting others, the panic has 
spread, and the enemy who, so to speak, poured 
in at the gap, have scattered ranks that, unbroken, 



THE CHRISTIAN'S WORK. 289 

" steadfast and immoveable," had stood the shock 
of battle, and come off victorious. And many 
such moments also there are in that lifelong fight 
which every Christian has to maintain with temp- 
tation. No doubt God promises Divine assistance ; 
and that when the enemy cometh in like a flood, 
the Spirit of the Lord shall lift up a standard 
against him. Yet in our conflicts with the devil, 
the world, and the flesh, how much depends on 
our being steadfast and unmoveable ? Let us 
dally with temptation, waver, give way in the least 
degree, yield but an inch, and the day is lost 
— as we ourselves also should be but for the 
sovereign grace and mercy of Him who, blessed 
be His name, promising to heal our backslidings 
and love us freely, delivers His " darling from the 
dogs." 

To watch, to fight, with steady front to meet 
and repel temptation — in other words to do no 
evil, is, however, though an important part, but 
one, and not the most important part of Christian 
work. The Church of the living God bears no 
resemblance to those communities of ants where 
a certain number of these curious insects form 
a sort of standing army, and have no other duties 
but to defend and battle for the commonwealth ; 
the building and provisioning, and other duties 
of the ant-hill belong to others, and not to them. 
Nor, to take an illustration from the arrangements 
of human society, does Christ's kingdom resemble 
this or that of any neighboring sovereign ; where 
the military, wearing a distinct garb and exempted 
from those productive labors whereby others 
support themselves and add to the wealth of 

19 



290 OUR father's business. 

the country, form a distinct order of the com- 
munity. The type of a Christian is seen not in 
lands where citizens and soldiers, working and 
fighting men, form different classes ; but rather 
in those troubled regions of the East, where the 
husbandman, constantly exposed to the attack of 
murderers and robbers, ploughs the soil with a 
carbine slung at his back, or a sword dangling 
at his side. We are to be ever ready to resist 
the devil and fight the good fight of faith, yet 
our main vocation is to work ; and he were but 
half a Christian who, though more successful than 
the best saints in that he never went to battle 
but he went to victory, only resisted temptation 
— only did no evil. Such negative goodness would 
present a poor and very inadequate specimen of 
the Gospel. What God requires of His people 
is much more than that — is to " do justly, and 
love mercy, and walk humbly " before Him ; is 
not only to depart from evil but to do good ; is 
to be followers of .Him who, while holy, harmless, 
and undefiled, went about doing good ; is, in the 
words of an apostle, by a benevolent and bene- 
ficent life of active, holy, useful labors to abound 
in the work of the Lord. In regard to which I 
remark — 

All Christians belong to " the working classes " 
— in a sense. There is one glory of the sun, says 
St. Paul, and another glory of the moon, and 
another glory of the stars, for one star differeth 
from another star in glory. Nor, in respect of 
variety, is Heaven itself unlike the firmament 
which forms its starry floor. Basking in the cloud- 
less sunshine of God's countenance, and engaged 



THE CHRISTIAN'S WORK. 29 1 

day and night in the lofty services of His throne, 
are different orders of celestials — angels and arch- 
angels, seraphim and cherubim, principalities, do- 
minions, and powers ; all perfect mirrors of the 
Divine perfections, yet each class, like the stars 
beneath their feet, differing from another in glory. 
And on leaving Heaven for earth, we find that, 
however widely they differ, variety is equally a 
feature of both. The very globe itself presents 
a series of heights and hollows, hills and dales, 
mountains that, towering above the clouds, are 
covered with eternal snow, and valleys that, robed 
in flowers and crowned with fruit, lie smiling at 
their giant feet — often, as the humbler classes of 
society would be, had they grace to look without 
envy on those above them, happier in their humility 
than the mountains that overshadow them in their 
cold, stormy, lofty, barren pride. A corresponding 
variety meets and delights us in every department 
of nature ; for though in the services of Divine 
worship, within the church, some, the worst enemies 
of unity, insist on uniformity, we may say, as 
the old philosophers did of a vacuum, that Nature 
abhors it. Uniformity is not the mind or manner 
of God. What variety of plants between the 
stately cedar and the lichen that seems only to 
color the surface of the naked rock ; between 
leviathan, either floating like an island on the 
glassy deep, or, in His rage, churning the sea into 
snowy foam, and those creatures which the micros- 
cope detects, of forms so minute that ten thousand 
millions — a number equal to the whole human race 
— have been found in the space of one square inch. 
With such inequalities in heaven and earth, among 



292 OUR FATHER'S BUSINESS. 

angels and animals, it were strange if human 
society presented a uniform aspect, no correspond- 
ing variety. It does. God has placed men in 
different circumstances and endowed them with 
different gifts. Society has its heights and hollows ; 
and it were as easy, by throwing down the moun- 
tains into the valleys, to reduce this globe itself, as 
to reduce it to one dead uniform, uninteresting 
level. Such " equality, liberty, and fraternity" as 
the French of last century raved of, and to reach 
waded to their knees in blood, was a dream. These 
are the privileges of Christ's kingdom ; and of none 
other. Slaves, whom the truth makes free, are free 
indeed. Those who love one another as Christ 
loved them, are brothers ; and more than brothers. 
And the grandest and only attainable equality is 
that of the grace of God. It raises all who receive 
Christ, peasants and princes both, to a common 
but lofty level ; redeeming them by one blood, 
sanctifying them by one Spirit, constituting them 
kings and priests to God, and calling them all up to 
the glory which Jesus had with the Father before 
the foundation of the world. The varied conditions 
of society are the result of laws which man did not 
enact, and cannot repeal. And though none are 
forbidden, provided they do not make ambition 
their god, and wealth, power, or rank their good, 
from seeking to improve their circumstances, and 
rise above the level of their birth, as the earth has 
its hills and valleys, the world will have its higher 
and lower classes ; some wealthy, others poor ; the 
few who do not need to depend on labor for their 
subsistence, and the many who must earn their 
daily bread with the sweat of their brain or of their 



THE CHRISTIAN'S WORK 293 

brow — but who, thank God, may fin-d in the pros- 
pects of faith and the promises of eternal rest, what 
can sweeten a cup which the sweat of labor is apt 
to sour. 

On turning, however, to the kingdom of grace, 
we find that all who belong to it — kings and states- 
men, warriors, philosophers, and divines, men of 
every trade, rank, and profession, men and women 
alike, belong to " the working class." All are 
equally the servants of one Master ; and what are 
servants for but to work ? Redeemed by the 
blood of Christ — His and not our own, we are called 
to spend and be spent in His service. Here for 
employment more than enjoyment, for self-denial 
rather than self-indulgence, every one, even the 
humblest and obscurest Christian, may adopt the 
lofty language of Nehemiah, and speaking of him- 
self, say, " I have a great work to do, therefore 
I cannot come down." We have first to labor 
for our own good, eagerly asking, What shall I do 
to be saved ? and giving all diligence to make our 
calling and election sure. Then, living in a world 
that has many claims on our pity and much need 
of our help, on a wild shore, as it were, where the 
waves are roaring, and from wrecks, with thousands 
perishing, the cry sounds above the wail of the 
storm and the thunder of the breakers, Oh, come 
over and help us, we are called to work for the 
good of others. Working, toiling, enduring, we 
ally ourselves to the saints in glory, the blessed 
dead — who die in the Lord, and whose works do 
follow them ; to angels also, who are ministering 
spirits sent forth to minister to them who are heirs 
of salvation ; to Jesus also, who entered on His 



294 OUR father's business. 

Father's business at an early age, and to the last 
hour, when they nailed His feet to the cross, went 
about doing good ; to God himself, of whose works 
in creating angels, kindling suns, calling worlds 
into being, directing the whole complicated ma- 
chinery of providence and of grace, Jesus said, " My 
Father worketh hitherto, and I work." Necessity, 
the mother of invention, is also the mother of 
work ; and it may need an effort of resignation to 
reconcile people to a position where, from day to 
day and from year's end to year's end, they have 
to work to live. But to live to work, should be our 
choice, and esteemed a noble destiny. " My 
Father worketh hitherto," said Christ. God lives 
to work ; and by such a life we prove ourselves the 
children of our Father which is in heaven. 

Now, in regard to the character of the work in 
which Christians are to spend their life, I remark 
that it is the work of the Lord ; and this, it is im- 
portant to observe, may embrace our most common 
employments. Some appear to think that God's 
service, like that of the king who required the 
Israelites to furnish the tale of bricks without 
supplying straw to make them, enjoins and de- 
mands impossibilities ; as, for instance, when be- 
lievers are required to " pray without ceasing." 
How, it is asked, can any man pray without 
ceasing ? But take the injunction, not in the letter 
which killeth, but in the spirit which giveth life, 
and it is not so impossible as many suppose ; nor 
at all impossible, as has been proved by multitudes 
who have gone to exchange in glory the perpetual 
prayers of earth for the perpetual praises of the 
skies. Undertaking no work : giving no advice ; 



THE CHRISTIAN'S WORK 2$$ 

entering into no company; if senators, never rising 
in parliament ; if soldiers, never going into battle ; 
if seamen, never embarking on a voyage; if tra- 
vellers, never beginning or resuming a journey ; if 
surgeons, never performing an important and diffi- 
cult operation ; if judges, never taking their place 
on the bench ; if ministers, never leaving their 
study for the pulpit ; whatever they were, never 
engaging in life's most common business without 
seeking the help of God ; — prayer, like a silver 
thread, runs through the web of their life. It is no 
exaggeration to say of them, that, though not 
always actually engaged in prayer, yet always 
ready to engage in it — always maintaining their 
minds in a prayerful frame — with the bow never 
unbent, the instrument, though not always sound- 
ing, never out of tune — they prayed without ceas- 
ing. 

Not less possible than to " pray without ceasing," 
is, though it may seem to some impossible, this 
other duty of " always abounding in the work of 
the Lord." Entered on, and carried on, in a devout 
and pious spirit, our most common avocations rise 
out of their secularities into a loftier region. 
Assuming the character of religious duties, they, 
may be called the work of the Lord. For, as a 
scene, though it presents at all times in fruitful 
fields and waving forests, gleaming river, shaggy 
mountains, winding shores, and rolling sea, iden- 
tically the same objects, glows with beauty and. 
brightness when bathed in sunshine, so piety makes 
a good man's whole life religious — the heavenly 
spirit in which they are done imparting a heavenly 
character to the humblest and most homely of his 



296 OUR father's business. 

works. We may be engaged in the work of the 
Lord as well with a spade or plough in our hand 
as a Bible ; on our knees scrubbing a floor, as on 
our knees in the attitude and act of prayer. Come, 
for example, into this workshop of Corinth, where 
Paul is spinning cordage, or sewing a covering, or, 
axe in hand, fashioning a pole, or otherwise busy 
tent-making. Finding the great Apostle of the 
Gentiles employed in such secularities, one i3 
tempted to address him in God's words to the 
prophet, " What doest thou here, Elijah ?" Is this 
a place, or that an employment for such a man 
as Paul ? And yet though, all fashioned alike, 
made of the same materials, and sold in the 
same market, there is no apparent difference 
between his tents and those of others ; whether 
Paul work with axe or needle, the hours he 
spends in tent-making are sanctified — are spent 
in the work of the Lord. He asserts a minister's 
just claim to maintenance, and yet earns his bread 
with the sweat of his brow, foregoing his rights that 
the ministry be not hindered. Acting from the 
noblest motives and for such an end, Paul gives a 
religious character to a common employment ; and 
the needle of the tent-maker neither demeans nor 
dishonors the hand that waved tumultuous as- 
semblies into silence, and won the honors of a 
martyr's chain. Whether I eat or drink, he said, 
or whatsoever I do — go to a feast, or a funeral ; 
make tents, or sermons ; go to the market to sell 
my work for money, or to the church to sell 
Christ's free salvation without money or price ; 
earn my bread with the sweat of my brow, or 
accept the hospitality of Gaius, mine host ; make 



THE CHRISTIAN'S WORK. ty? 

tents at Corinth, or fight with wild beasts at 
Ephesus ; escape from Damascus in a basket, or, 
brought to bay, stand like a lion before Nero at 
Rome, — I do all to the glory of God ! Doing so, 
all he did, and doing so all we do, may be appro- 
priately called the work of the Lord. 

God's people shall renew their strength and 
mount up with wings as eagles. But it is quite a 
mistake to fancy that, like that bird, which builds 
her nest on the dizzy crag, and soars aloft, and 
sails along in the paths of the clouds and thunder, 
religion belongs only to the highest, and what are 
called holy, duties of life. While she rises to its 
highest, she stoops to its meanest, occupations. 
As well as the seraphs that sing before the throne, 
as the heralds who sound the trumpet of the 
gospel and proclaim salvation to perishing sinners, 
as the Christian who enters his closet to hold com- 
munion with God, they are doing the work of the 
Lord who kindle a fire, or sweep a floor, or guide a 
plough, or sit over a desk, or work at a bench, or 
break stones on the road, with a desire so to do 
their work that God may thereby be glorified. All 
work done from such motives and for such an end, 
becomes the work of the Lord — and thus our life, 
in all its phases, entirely spent in the work of the 
Lord, should flow on like a river which, however 
rough its bed, short or long its course, tame or 
grand the scenes through which it passes, springs 
from a lofty fountain, and, born of the skies, bears 
blessings in its waters and heaven reflected in its 
bosom. 

I remark, further, that those things which are 
done in the name and service of religion, are em- 



298 OUR father's business 

phatically the work of the Lord. This is the senss 
in which Paul uses the phrase, when, writing to the 
Corinthians, he says, " Nov/ if Timotheus come, see 
that he may be with you without fear, for he 
worketh the work of the Lord, as I also do :" and 
what he means by that comes out clearly in his 
eulogium on Timothy, " I have no man like-minded 
who will naturally care for your state, for all seek 
their own things, not the things of Jesus Christ; 
but ye know the proof of him, that, as a son with 
the father, he hath served with me in the Gospel." 
And what are the things of Jesus Christ, here 
identified with the work of the Lord, but those 
grand objects for which, leaving His Father's 
bosom, the Son of God descended on this world to 
live, to labor, to sorrow, to suffer, and to lay down 
His life on Calvary — a propitiatory sacrifice for the 
sins and a noble substitute for the persons of men ? 
With tastes and a nature like ours, our Lord ap- 
preciated the pleasures of friendship, and of feasts 
also. He had an exquisite enjoyment in the beau- 
ties of nature— passing many happy hours in his 
journeys through the smiling land, in quiet walks 
by the shores of Gennesaret, and midnight musings 
among the hoary olives of Gethsemane. But these, 
though pleasant brooks to drink in the way, were 
not the things He lived for. In His Father's glory, 
and lost souls saved, and a ruined world redeemed, 
He had nobler objects : these drew Him from the 
skies ; to these He referred when, addressing Pilate, 
He said, " For this cause came I into the world." 
He came to work out salvation ; and would God 
that all men, answering the call, Work out your 
salvation with fear and trembling, went up to 



THE CHRISTIAN'S WORK. 299 

heaven from doing what He came from it to do ! 
There is no doubt that that is the work of God. 
Our Lord has distinctly said so — this is His reply- 
to those who asked Him, What shall we do that 
we might work the works of God ? " This is the 
work of God, that ye believe in him whom he hath 
sent." — in other words, that ye lay hold on eternal 
life through faith in Jesus Christ. 

And this salvation, about which many are so 
strangely careless, is the great work that has en- 
gaged God himself from the counsels of eternity, 
and shall engage Him to the end of time ; for which 
He has revealed mysteries, and wrought miracles, 
and bestowed gifts — in number beyond reckoning, 
in value beyond all the power of words to express, 
or the highest flights of fancy to imagine. Has the 
sea been divided ? Has the sun been stopped ? 
Has bread fallen from the skies, and water gushed 
from the flinty rock ? Have the lame leaped, and 
dumb lips sung, and blind eyes seen, and its grim 
tenants left the tomb ? It was to prepare the way 
for this work — to further a work of God's greater 
than creating out of nothing a thousand worlds, or 
lighting the night with the fires of ten thousand 
suns. To save our lost race, God did not spare 
His own Son. For that end He gave up His Son 
to death, and the Son gave up Himself. And why 
does God at this moment tolerate the flagrant 
crimes and wickedness of earth ? why sleep the 
fires of Sodom ? where are the waters of the 
avenging deluge ? In preserving the world from 
destruction, in sending summer and winter, seed 
time and harvest, in raising up one nation and 
casting down another, in directing and over-ruling 



300 OUR FATHER'S BUSINESS. 

all sublunary events from the fall of kingdoms U 
the fall of a sparrow, God has one purpose. It is 
that which angels have come down from heaven to 
help and devils have come up raging from hell to 
hinder — the salvation of sinners and ingathering 
of His chosen people. For their sake He spares 
His enemies : the tares for the wheat ; Sodom for 
the Lots within its walls ; nor till the last of these 
has left them, shall the City of Destruction be 
ready for burning. And how should men labor for 
an end that is of such value in God's eyes, and 
should be of such importance and immediate 
urgency in their own ? To be saved and sanctified 
ourselves, and to be also the instruments of saving 
others — of plucking brands from the burning, the 
drowning from the devouring sea, this is especially 
and emphatically " the work of the Lord ;" one in 
which men, who are exalted to be fellow-heirs 
with Christ, are called to be fellow-workers with 
God. 

In those works which may be especially called the 
work of the Lord, be it observed that God's people 
are required not only to engage, but to abound, and 
to abound always. A harp is mute till its chords are 
made to tremble ; and as its strings emit no sound 
till they are struck, some plants emit no fragrance 
till they are crushed — yielding their odors to the 
hand that bruises them. So it is with some people. 
When all things go well with them — fortune smiles, 
health blooms on the cheek, prosperity flows — 
bearing them on its affluent tide to wealth, or fame, 
or place, or power, or whatever is the object of their 
ambition, they neglect their souls. They drown 
all thoughts of another world in the pleasures of this, 



THE CHRISTIAN'S WORK. 301 

Nor is it till the scene changes, and the calm turns 
into a howling storm, and God, in the form of 
poverty, sickness, disappointment, bereavement, 
lays the hand of affliction on them, that they turn to 
Him ; and, seeking the salvation of their own and 
of others' souls, betake themselves to the true 
business of their life. And hard as such afflictions 
were to bear, how many in heaven are now thank- 
ing God that they lost friends and fortune ; and 
that when they were driving full sail on destruction, 
He sent a storm that woke them up to see, and, by 
His timely help, to escape their danger ? If the 
prodigal had not starved by the swine troughs, he 
had never been regaled at his father's table. If 
Jonah had not been tossed on the sea, and also 
tossed into it to be whelmed into darkness and the 
depths, he had never broken the peace, and, bring- 
ing them to repentance, saved the people of 
Nineveh. If the widow of Zarepthah had not 
looked with horror-stricken eyes on an empty 
barrel, she had never met the Prophet whom she 
brought to her house to fill it. If the crimes of the 
thief had not brought him to the cross, he might 
never have been brought to Christ. It is by a blow 
that many in the first instance are brought to their 
knees ; nor do some ever become rich, till misfor- 
tunes make them poor. 

But this work, however God's people may, in the 
first instance, have been led to engage in it, is one 
in which they are called to abound in all circum- 
stances and seasons. They may be more lively at 
one time than another. Grace, like the ocean, has 
its spring as well as common tides ; and, as in times 
of revival, an extraordinary effusion of the Spirit 



302 OUR FATHER'S BUSINESS. 

may reveal itself by more than ordinarily earnest 
prayers, devout exercises, holy lives, and liberal 
offerings of time and money to the cause of Christ. 
But the abundance of God's people more resembles 
that of a river which, fed by perennial springs, is 
always flowing, than the summer flood which, 
though it fills its stony channel to the brim 
with a red, rapid, roaring river, so soon as the 
lightnings cease to flash, and thunders cease to 
peal, leaves its bed dry — in a few hours, or days at 
furthest. Though a believer, from a sense of the 
feebleness of his love and the fruitlessness of his 
life, may be often constrained to cry, " My leanness, 
my leanness !" it should not, and need not, be so. 
The grace of God is marked by the affluence which 
characterizes all His works. What abundance in 
that sun which has shone so many thousand years, 
and yet presents no appearance of exhaustion, no 
sign of decay ? What abundance of stars bespangle 
the sky ; of leaves clothe the forest ; of raindrops 
fall in the shower ; of dews sparkle on the grass 
of snow-flakes whiten the winter hills; of flowers 
adorn the meadow ; of living creatures that, walking 
on the ground or playing in the waters, or burrow- 
ing in the soil, or dancing in the sunbeams, or flying 
in the air, find a home in every element — but that 
red fire in which, type of hell, all beauty perish, 
and all life expires ? 

This lavish profusion of life, and forms, and 
beauty, in nature, is an emblem of the affluence ot 
grace, of God's saving, sanctifying grace. In Christ 
all fulness dwells. We are complete in Him. There 
is in His blood sufficient virtue to discharge all the 
sins of a guilty world, and in His Spirit sufficient 



THE CHRISTIAN'S WORK. 303 

power to cleanse the foulest and break the hardest 
heart. Ye are not straitened in me, says God, 
but in yourselves. Try me herewith, He says — ask, 
seek, knock ! Who does will find that it is only a 
faint image of the plenitude of grace we behold in 
that palace-scene where the king, looking kindly 
on a lovely suppliant, bends from his throne to 
extend his golden sceptre, and say, What is thy 
petition, and what is thy request, Queen Esther, 
and it shall be given thee to the half of my 
kingdom ? 

The abundance that characterizes all God's works, 
and especially His grace and saving mercies, should 
characterize all our services. Take prayer for ex- 
ample. Though all find time to sin, some allege 
that they have no time to pray. Believe them, and 
they are so engaged, and indeed overwhelmed with 
the cares and business of the world, that they have 
no leisure for an exercise without which, I venture 
to say, the soul is as unable to live as is the body 
without food ; as are flames without air ; as are 
plants without water. So they neglect prayer. 
They have no closet in their house for prayer ; 
the family altar where pious parents worshipped 
is a ruin ; and between their door and this well of 
life the untrodden grass grows green. How does an 
old and even popish proverb rebuke their careless- 
ness, and refute their false pretences ? Mess and 
meat, it says, hinder no man's work ; as, if it needed 
proof, is demonstrated by some illustrious examples 
recorded in the Word of God. Look for instance 
at Daniel ! Prime Minister of the King of Babylon, 
at the helm of the state, with the complicated affairs 
of a vast empire to manage, he found time, besides 



304 our father's business. 

offering many silent and sudden ejaculations, fof 
stated closet prayer thrice every day. Look at the 
royal Psalmist ! His case is not less, but rather 
more remarkable. Involved in incessant troubles, 
with a throne to defend, twelve turbulent tribes to 
govern, cases of justice to decide, cabinet councils 
to hold, armies to lead to battle, how did he 
abound in prayer ! Amid the bustle of camps and 
the temptations of a court, he prayed, not twice, 
according to common custom, nor with Daniel 
thrice, but seven times each day — living in an 
atmosphere of devotion, he consecrated half his 
waking hours with prayer. How much the Church 
owes to David's prayers ! To these she owes his 
psalms. By these he kindled those fires of devotion 
which have kept her piety alive through all succeed- 
ing ages. While to prayers that drew down 
strength from heaven Daniel, no doubt, owed the 
faith and fortitude which threw open his closet 
window to the gaze of spies, and descended with 
unblanched cheek and majestic mien into the den 
of lions. And let Christians remember that they 
shall sit nearest these saints in glory who in abound- 
ing, believing prayers have most resembled them 
on earth. 

But with prayer the work of the Lord embraces 
all the duties belonging to the Christian life ; and 
to see how we should not only make, but abound, 
for example, in sacrifices on behalf of the cause of 
God and salvation of souls, look at the conduct 
of the Israelites in the wilderness ! The conduct ot 
the Israelites ? " Can any good thing," people may 
ask, " come out of Nazareth " — be found in such 
a stiff-necked, ungrateful, and rebellious race ? 



THE CHRISTIAN'S WORK. 305 

ilardly had they seen the sea engulph Pharaoh and 
his host, when they murmured for water : water 
gush from the flinty rock, when they murmured for 
bread : bread in the form of manna lyin^ round 
their tents, when they murmured for flesh ; yet one 
bright passage in their history puts to shame many 
of higher pretensions, and also higher attainments. 
The tabernacle of God, in other words the cause 
of religion, stood in need of their self-denial and 
liberality. Though He who rained manna from 
the skies and turned the rock into a flowing stream 
could have done without their aid, raising a gor- 
geous tabernacle, like His cloudy pillar, from the 
desert sand, He conferred on them, as He still con- 
fers on us, the honor and privilege of contributing 
to His cause. " This is the thing," said Moses, 
" which the Lord God hath commanded, Whoso- 
ever is of a willing heart, let him bring an offering 
to the Lord, gold, silver, and brass ; blue, scarlet, 
purple, and fine linen ; oil for the light, spices for 
the incense, and precious stones for the breast- 
plate. " So their leader appealed to the people ; 
and as the water gushed from the rock to the 
stroke of his rod in a broad, full, sparkling stream, 
they answered this appeal with a flood of gifts. 
Rich, though, alas ! too rare, examples of pious 
bounty, of earth reflecting the glorious affluence of 
heaven, the maid forgot her ornaments and the 
bride her attire ; ears, fingers, arms were spoiled of 
sparkling jewels ; gold gleamed and precious stones 
flashed thick on the vast, rising heap of fragrant 
spices, and finest textures of Egyptian looms ; 
the spoils of Egypt were poured into the treasury ; 
and such was the flood of gifts which answered 

20 



305 OUR FATHER'S BUSINESS. 

Moses' call, that he had to cry, Hold, it is 
enough ! 

Pity it is, not creditable to religion it is, that the 
liberality of those whom Christ has redeemed with 
His blood needs, now-a-days, so much and often 
the stimulus of rivalry, the charm of eloquence, 
urgent and earnest entreaties — the spur often, the 
curb-rein almost never. Would to God we were 
more fired with the love of souls and of Him who 
spared not His own Son to save us ! Then would 
we spare our persons and our purses less ; and not 
only abounding, but delighting in the work of the 
Lord, our life would rise more to the height of its 
motto, these grand words of Paul — I will gladly 
spend and be spent for Christ. 



PERSEVERANCE IN WELL-DOING. 30; 



Activity, as much as anything, and more 
than most things else, is that which distinguishes 
life from death. How still, as well as solemn, the 
chamber of the dead ! Death has been called a 
long sleep, and sleep a short death ; and they re- 
semble each other much — sleep, with eyelids closed, 
the ears shut, the lips sealed, and a countenance 
calm, unimpassioned, without one trace of the 
griefs, and fears, and cares that lie buried in tem- 
porary oblivion, simulating death. Yet the heav- 
ing chest ; though subdued, the audible and 
measured breathing ; though faint, the living color 
on the cheek ; and the warm touch, so different 
from death's icy hand and marble brow, bespeak 
functions active amid repose ; and show how life 
never rests, and wears in sleep but the mask of 
death. Things inanimate — as dead bodies, stones 
and metals, earth, air, and water — are passive. On 
the other hand, all animate are active creatures ; 
as well the insect that flits in its play from flower 
to flower, as the angels that, speeding forth on 
God's high errands, fly from heaven to earth, or 
from world to world. So closely associated, and 
indeed inseparable, are the ideas of activity and 
life, that we at once conclude what is inactive to 
be inanimate — the bird that, dropping to the gun, 



308 OUR father's business. 

lies motionless ; the soldier who, with ball through 
head or heart, springs into the air, and falling on 
the ground, never more moves a limb ; the dying 
man that, sinking back on his pillow, heaves one 
long sigh, and breathes and stirs no more. We 
pronounce these dead without a moment's hesita- 
tion. There may be the appearance of life but 
certainly not its presence, where there is no activ- 
ity ; as they rightly concluded who, sailing in 
Arctic seas, fell in with a ship, for long years im- 
prisoned in the ice, and looked in its cabin on a 
strange, appalling, weird-like scene. Fifty years 
had come and gone since living voice or step had 
sounded there, yet all the crew were there. They 
lay in couches on the floor, each attired in the dress 
and presenting the form and flesh of life ; while 
their captain sat by the cabin table, pen in hand, 
and the log spread out before him. The spectators 
of so strange a sight, with mingled feelings of 
doubt and terror, shouted ; but no response came 
back. Nor crew nor captain stirred. All were 
dead, and had been corpses for half-a-century — the 
frosts that killed, preserving them. Life-like as he 
looked who bent over the table with a pen in his 
fingers and the paper before him, in which, the last 
survivor, he had recorded their sufferings, he also 
was dead ; as they knew on seeing him sit unmoved 
by their shouts ; his eyes retaining their glassy 
stare, and his form its fixed and frozen posture. 

The activity that thus marks all other kinds of 
life is characteristic of the Christian's. Sometimes 
distinguished by heroic daring, and prodigal of 
noble deeds, at all times it is a life of doing ; is 
so even when, feeble as an infant, the believer lies 



PERSEVERANCE IN WELL-DOING. 30<; 

helpless on a Saviour's bosom, and living chiefly 
on the milk of promises, is able to do little else 
than express his wants in prayers and plaintive 
cries. And, as the spiritual, like the natural, life 
advances in course of time to maturity, this activity 
goes on to complete development. It so increases 
by increase of grace that, with a heart which beats 
more and more true to the love of God, with feet 
that walk, hands that work, and a tongue that 
speaks in His service, the Christian, once a babe, 
grows into a man in Christ ; his model He who, in 
contrast to him that walketh about like a roaring 
lion seeking whom he may devour, went about con- 
tinually doing good. For, while doing, or activity, 
characterizes all life, " doing good," or " well-do- 
ing," is the peculiar character of the Christian's life. 
The " well-doing" of earth is what heaven shall 
greet with its own " Well done ;" — " Well done, 
good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy 
of thy Lord." And what an inspiring and power- 
ful incentive does this, with many things else, 
present to persevere in grace ; to " be careful to 
maintain good works," and again to quote the 
words of the apostle, " not to be weary in well- 
doing ? w 

In regard to the duty of not being weary in well- 
doing, I remark that, although there is not much 
difference in sound, there is a great difference in 
sense, between being wearied in a work and wearied 
of it. Of this difference sick rooms often supply 
examples. The nurse who moves about there by 
day with professional coolness, when the house is 
still at night, nor sound breaks the silence, but the 
beating of the clock, and the feverish breathing of 



310 OUR father's business. 

her charge, drops asleep, weary of the tedium of 
watching.. Not so the mother, trembling for a life 
that is trembling in the balance — all her cares, 
anxieties, and thoughts, save in the prayers she 
sends off to heaven, shut up within the narrow 
space of that chamber's walls. Her sunken eyes, 
and pallid cheek, and feeble step bespeaking ex- 
haustion, have awoke others' fears for her ; but, 
strong in love that is deaf to remonstrance, she 
refuses to leave her post ; and if, heavy with grief 
and care, her drooping eyelids close, it is because 
she is wearied with watching, not weary of it ; on 
the contrary, racked with anxiety, she fights with 
sleep, and starts from its short, broken slumbers 
at the poor sufferer's faintest cry, or feeblest moan. 
Amid other scenes — those of war, for example — 
the same distinction presents itself. Animated by 
no ambition, no love of country, no spirit of daring 
enterprise, this soldier gets tired of the long 
marches, the ill-requited hazards and hardships 
of the campaign. Seizing the first opportunity 
to leave, he returns home to enjoy inglorious ease, 
and hear birds rather than bullets whistle. Another, 
his companion both at school and in the ranks of 
war, returns also in course of time to their native 
village ; but his sleeve is empty, and he wears 
gray hairs on his head, as well as medals on his 
breast. Wearied, not of, but in, the war for liberty, 
he left his gallant comrades with reluctance, and 
eyes which filled with tears as he took a long, last 
look of the colors that, rent and riddled, waved 
above him in many a hard contested field. In 
these men we see the well-marked difference 
between being wearied in a work and weary of it. 



PERSEVERANCE IN WELL-DOING. 31I 

To take an example from sacred story, we see 
it in two persons there — the one a prominent, the 
other a pre-eminent character ; the one a type, 
the other the great antitype ; both, though unlike 
in these things, like in this — that they lie buried 
in the arms of sleep. Look at the prophet Jonah, 
and at Jesus ! Weary not merely in, but of, a 
service which called him to endure hardships that 
he disliked, and face dangers in Nineveh that he 
greatly dreaded, Jonah thought to put the sea 
between him and these ; and not these only, but 
God also. For this purpose, he took ship and fled 
— a deserter from his post. Exhausted with anxiety 
of mind and toil of body, the fugitive falls asleep ; 
nor, though the tempest roared, and the ship reeled 
and pitched and plunged amid the stormy billows, 
wakes till a rough hand shakes him, and a voice 
cries in his alarmed ear, " Arise, oh thou that 
sleepest, and call upon thy God I" From that 
sea turn to another — swept by as fierce a storm, 
lashed into as angry waves. Caught in the sudden 
tempest, a solitary boat is tearing its way there, on 
the lake of Galilee. The crew are pulling for their 
lives. In vain they struggle ! Wave after wave 
breaks over them, filling their bark. They bale, 
but she is ready to founder. A few moments 
more, and, but that they carried Jesus, these, like 
other fishermen, had found a grave where they 
were wont to find their bread. And, ere the 
Master rises to rebuke the tempest, and bid the 
waves be still, how is He employed ? He sleeps ; 
sleeps stretched on a hard bench, beneath a boat- 
cloak, with the sea breaking over His prostrate 
form, amid the blaze of lightning, peals of thunder, 



312 OUR FATHERS BUSINESS. 

and the loud uproar of angry elements -sleeps 
like an infant rocked in its cradle, or warmly 
nestled in a mother's breast. Nights passed in 
prayer, and days spent in preaching or in incessant 
labors of benevolence, have exhausted His frame, 
drying up all His strength ; and there Jesus lies in 
calm, deep sleep, a wonderful example — the most 
wonderful the world has seen — of one wearied, not 
ofy but in, His Father's business. 

In regard to this well-doing in which Christ's 
followers desire and try to live, it is quite different 
from the " well-to-do " and "well-doing" of the 
world, as it uses and understands these expressions. 
They present examples of that abuse of language 
which, with other sins of his day, Isaiah so strongly 
condemned. In that remarkable chapter where he 
denounces Covetousness, saying, " Woe unto them 
that join house to house, and add field to field " — 
denounces Intemperance saying, "Woe unto them 
that rise up early in the morning that they may 
follow strong drink ; that continue until night till 
wine inflame them ; that are mighty to drink wine, 
and men of strength to mingle strong drink," the 
prophet thunders out his woe against another 
great, if not greater evil. Addressing men who 
play with conscience and poison the fountains of 
truth, who bedizen the cheek of vice, and throw 
the robe of an angel over the form of a fiend, 
" Woe," says Isaiah, " unto them that call evil 
good, and good evil ; that put darkness for light, 
and light for darkness ; that put bitter for sweet, 
and sweet for bitter." Every age, present or re- 
mote, has sought in this way to gloze over sin. 
For example, sceptics and infidels — as if all who 



PERSEVERANCE IN WELL-DOiNG. 3?$ 

believe in God's word were enslaved — claim to 
be 4 ' Free Thinkers ;" again, the vile seducer is 
only described as " loose " who, under the mask 
of affection, steals in her virtue woman's most 
precious jewel, and tramples on her bleeding 
heart ; again, they are merely said to live " fast " 
who wreck their fortunes, ruin their hapless child- 
ren, impair their constitution, precipitate their 
death, drown their senses and damn their souls 
with drink ; again, " unfortunate " is the mild term 
applied to her who, like a night wolf, prowls the 
streets for prey, and whose den, in the judgment 
of Solomon, and the bitter experience of her 
victims, is " the way to hell ;" again, the duellists, 
who went out to settle a petty quarrel with loaded 
pistols, and shoot each other dead, were said to 
engage in "an affair of honor;" and, but some 
few years ago, " the domestic institution " was the 
soft and gentle term applied to that wide-spread, 
gigantic, infamous, infernal slavery, from the stain, 
the burning shame, and bitter curse of which 
America has only escaped by years of war, at 
the cost of millions of money and rivers of human 
blood. Here is a misapplication of terms nearly 
as gross. " Calling evil good, putting light for 
darkness and bitter for sweet," those who grow 
rich, no matter how — who, turning a deaf ear to 
every holy and humane appeal, to the claims of 
widows, the cries of orphans, the miseries of a 
world that perishes in ignorance and sin, heap 
up wealth, are said to be " well-to-do " in the 
world ; at market and on 'change, are spoken of 
as "doing well." A "well doing" and "well-to- 
do" this, that shall meet no "Well done" from 



3t4 our father's business. 

the Judge of all, at the last day and on the great 
white throne. Blessed award, it is reserved for 
such as have modelled their lives on His who, 
beginning life in a borrowed cradle and closing 
it in a borrowed grave, spent its years in hard 
toil and yet harder poverty — envying the foxes 
their holes and the birds of the air their nests ! 

A busy, useful, holy life, and none other, is a 
life of well-doing ; is a noble life, though passed 
in a cottage ; is a happy one, though its path 
be rough and thorny. In a world where there 
is much to do, it allots little time for self-enjoy- 
ments, and no time for sinful ones. Filled up 
with the duties of home and business, with the 
paramount interests of eternity and of our souls, 
with good deeds done to others, and the claims 
they have on our help, its days, instead of walking 
on leaden feet, seem to fly on eagles' wings — 
the busiest life appearing all too idle, and the 
longest proving all too short for the work we have 
to do. Like a toil-worn laborer, weary in though 
not of his work, the Christian may sometimes wish 
it were concluded, and long for sunset that he 
might leave the field to go home — his the desire 
of the Psalmist, Oh, that I had the wings of a 
dove, that I might fly away and be at rest ! Yet 
toiling and enduring, bearing others' burdens along 
with his own, living not for himself, regarding 
every day as lost which is not marked by some 
good got or done, and regarding himself as the 
steward of God's bounty — not a lord but a laborer 
in the vineyard, that man, though he may be weary 
in, will not be w T eary of well-doing. Such a life 
was Paul's — he declared himself ready gladly to 



PERSEVERANCE IN WELL-DOING. $!§ 

spend and to be spent for Christ. Such a life 
was Dorcas' — she employed her fingers making 
clothes for the poor, and unlike many who die 
leaving none to miss them, had a crowd of widows 
to weep by her bier. Such a life was Job's, who, 
while humbling himself in the dust before God, 
stood erect before the world, in these noble terms 
to describe and justify his character, " When the 
ear heard me then it blessed me, and when the 
eye saw me it gave witness to me, because I 
delivered the poor that cried, the fatherless, and 
him that had none to help him ; the blessing of 
him that was ready to perish came upon me : 
and I caused the widow's heart to sing for joy. 
I put on righteousness and it clothed me ; my 
judgment was as a robe and diadem. I was eyes 
to the blind, and feet was I to the lame ; I was a 
father to the poor." And, obscuring all others, 
as does the sun the stars, by its superior lustre, 
such a life was His who, our pattern and propi- 
tiation both, calls us by His example, as by His 
word, to well-doing — saying, as He points to the 
crown glittering on the top of a cross, If any 
man will be My disciple, let him deny himself 
daily, take up his cross, and follow Me. 

Christ's followers, though weary of, are to per- 
severe in their work, watch, and warfare — persevere 
to the end ; like Gideon and his three hundred 
men, though " faint, yet pursuing." If, for the 
sake of illustration, we select the last of these 
three grand branches of Christian duty, the warfare, 
namely, where could we find a better pattern than 
his case supplies ? Whether the overwhelming 
numbers of the enemy, or the extraordinary means 



316 our father's business. 

of their defeat is considered, the victory which 
he and his band achieved, and followed up with 
unsparing slaughter, is one of the most remarkable 
on record. God's foes and his, the Midianites and 
Amalekites, we are told, " lay along in the Valley 
of Jezreel, like grasshoppers for multitude — their 
camels without number, as the sand on the sea- 
side for multitude. " Inspired of God, Gideon steps 
from the threshing-floor to summon his countrymen 
to arms ; and, peasants leaving the plow in the 
furrow, shepherds their flocks on the hill, fishermen 
their boats by the shore, the bridegroom the 
marriage festival, and orphans their father's bier, 
they crowd to his standard. Two and thirty 
thousand men muster to the bloody fight ; and 
on vantage ground, in some mountain gorge, what 
might not such an army accomplish with every 
man resolved to do or to die, to conquer or to 
perish ? But, when the chaff is blown away, the 
thirty-two are reduced to ten thousand ; and these 
again to no more than three hundred men. " If 
thou art afraid," said the Lord to Gideon — nor 
great wonder he should be with such odds against 
him — " go with thy servant down to the host and 
hear what they say." With noiseless foot, wrapped 
in the cloud of night, he steals on the camp, 
and, listening, hears two soldiers talking — one tells 
how he dreamt that a barley cake came tumbling 
into the host, and, strange result, overturned a 
tent ; a dream his comrade interprets, saying, 
" This is nothing else than the sword of Gideon, 
for into his hand God hath delivered Midian and 
all the host." Hailing the happy omen, Gideon 
stealthily withdraws, and, breasting the hill with 



PERSEVERANCE IN WELL-DOING. 31; 

light heart, rushes in among his little band to 
cry, " Arise! the Lord hath delivered the host 
of Midian into your hand !" They spring to their 
feet ; and each man with a sword by his thigh, 
a trumpet in one hand and in the other a pitcher 
with a burning lamp within, they follow their 
leader — his only order this, As I do, so shall ye 
do ! It is the middle watch ; and the mighty 
host, whose camp they silently encircle, lies buried 
in slumber. Each man holds his breath ; silent 
and motionless he listens, and, bending forward, 
peers through the gloom for the expected signal. 
Suddenly Gideon's trumpet, blown loud and clear, 
rings through the silence, and a lamp — for he 
has broken his pitcher — flashes on the darkness 
of night. Lost in astonishment, the sentinels stop 
on their round ; but ere they have time to raise 
the alarm, hundreds of lights are flashing, hundreds 
of trumpets sounding : and on all sides the air 
is rent with shouts and this wild battle cry, " The 
sword of the Lord and Gideon !" Springing to 
their feet and rushing from their tents, the whole 
host is panic struck ; and, mistaking friends for 
foes in the darkness and confusion, men grapple 
with their neighbors, and draw their swords to 
bury them in each other's bosoms. The uproar 
grows wilder and wilder ; the carnage rages fiercer 
and fiercer ; Gideon and his men, the while, standing 
by to see the salvation of God. The host destroys 
itself. God wins the victory ; and they who struck 
no blow reap the fruit — Gideon's only part being 
to put the broken, bleeding fugitives to the sword, 
and hang on their rear, " faint, yet pursuing." 
The part we have to act in the Christian warfare 



318 OUR father's business. 

is similar to this ; and similar to this should be 
the way we do it. Gideon's followers were first 
reduced from two-and-thirty to ten thousand, and 
again reduced to three hundred ; these being made 
spectators rather than actors in the bloody drama, 
that they might not say, Mine own hand hath 
saved me ! Such is the story of the Cross. There, 
like Gideon and his men on the midnight plains 
of Jezreel, we stood by to see the salvation of 
our God — Satan, the enemy of our souls, bruised 
under the conqueror's heel. Jesus, not we, won 
that great victory. We struck no blow, we had 
no hand in it whatever ; yet like those who hung 
on the rear of Midian, slaughtering their flying 
foes, we have a part to act — our part this, to 
complete if I may say so, the work which Christ 
began ; to destroy every vestige of life in the 
serpent whose head He crushed ; to expel sin 
wholly from our hearts and our habits, as Gideon 
expelled its enemies out of the land of Israel. 

He who is converted, believes, and is thereby 
savingly united to Christ, has still, to use the 
words of Nehemiah, " a great work to do." We 
enter then on a harder task than Gideon's. His 
enemies, paralyzed with terror, flying like a flock 
of sheep that barking dogs pursue, fell without 
an attempt at resistance. Not so does Satan 
yield. He makes desperate efforts to rally his 
scattered forces, and recover the ground he has 
lost. By no means easily expelled, he lurks in 
our habits and hides in the recesses of our hearts. 
Now a cunning serpent and now a roaring lion, 
at one time with devilish craft he proposes terms 
of peace, and at another, seeking not to deceive, 



PERSEVERANCE IN WELL-DOING. 3ig 

but to cast us into despair, he comes forth, boast- 
ful as Goliath, to defy the armies of the living God. 
And even when he flies, as the apostle assures 
us he will do if we resist him, he flies like the 
ancient Parthians — fighting all the while, and with 
the fiery darts he shoots, putting the believer's 
peace in jeopardy, and making his armor ring. 
Having self to conquer, with a carnal heart to 
crucify, evil passions to subdue, and habits to 
break off which age and indulgence have festered 
into a second nature, our part of the work, instead 
of being finished, may be said to begin at the 
period of conversion. Nor is any sin, — though 
flesh and blood plead for it, saying : It is but 
a little one, — to be spared. " Cursed be he that 
keepeth back his sword from blood!" In this 
holy war there is to be no truce proclaimed, nor 
quarter given. Whoso nameth the name of the 
Lord is to depart from all iniquity ; to cast out 
all sin. No easy work ! I know a weed which, 
more than any other which infests the ground, 
gardeners and husbandmen find it troublesome 
to extirpate. Shooting its long, knotted fibres 
under the surface, spreading in all soils, whether 
rich or poor, with unexampled rapidity, it survives 
being crushed beneath the heel, or cut into 
morsels with the spade ; and, tenacious of life, 
springs again if the smallest portion of its root has 
been left in the ground. Such is sin. It is very 
hard to destroy : yet must be wholly rooted out of 
the life and out of the heart, since, if we do not kill 
sin, sin will kill us. 

Now, God's people ought never to forget that 
this perseverance in well-doing, whatever depart* 



320 OUR father's business. 

ment of the Christian life they be engaged in, they 
cannot maintain without drawing constantly on 
the grace of God. The wick which is left to burn 
without a due supply of oil soon burns dim ; and 
going out, leaves the house to darkness. Con- 
stant cropping exhausts the most fertile soil, 
nor do reapers long gather harvests from its bosom 
unless it be fed with manures, or allowed to rest. 
And who does not know that the amount of work 
to be obtained out of either men or horses, depends 
on the quality and quantity of their food ? Indeed, 
Wellington used to say that victories were won 
not so much by him or others who led the troops 
to battle, as by the Commissariat — those who 
were charged with finding provisions for the army ; 
and history relates how the fete of one great 
battle was determined by one good meal — victory 
remaining with those who had broken their fast 
before they went into action. 

Called to resist the devil, to overcome the world, 
and, what is more difficult than either, or perhaps 
than both, to crucify the flesh ; called to work out 
our salvation with fear and trembling, and, what 
is yet more difficult, to " stand still and see the 
salvation of God ;" called in life's active duties 
to do His will, and, what often proves more diffi- 
cult, under sore bereavements and heavy trials to 
bear it — our only hope, and all-sufficient help is in 
the Spirit of God. Unless constantly supplied with 
grace the brightest light will burn dim ; all spiritual 
vigor will decay ; and, like soil the husbandman 
scourges with constant cropping nor nourishes with 
manure, the soul will soon have to cry, " My 
leanness, my leanness !" So there is no saving so 



PERSEVERANCE IN WELL-DOING. 32 1 

bad as that which grudges time for seeking those 
divine supplies which we obtain in the use of 
prayer, of the Bible, and of those other channels 
through which they are wont to flow. There are 
bad savings. Humble life affords examples of 
them in those who, leaving venerable parents to 
poverty or public alms, save money to buy gaudy 
dresses ; and the higher walks of life, also, in such 
as, refusing the claims of charity and religion, 
hoard up riches for children to waste on vanity or 
their vices ; but of all savings the worst is time 
saved for the business or pleasures of life off that 
which should be given to communion with God, 
the Bible, and prayer, in the morning or at the 
close of the day. How can he escape wounds who 
rushes into battle without taking time to put his 
armor on ? To win the fight, a man must gird 
on his weapons ; to draw sweet music from an 
instrument, he must tune its strings ; nor can 
a laborer endure the tear and wear of work, if he 
neglects his food, — unless he supplies the waste 
of bone and muscle with nutritious meals. The 
soul, not less than the body, wants its necessary 
food. 

A most important truth ! To overlook it — but 
that the covenant of grace is well-ordered in all 
things and sure — would involve us in a fate worse 
than his who some winters ago owed his death to 
neglecting the means necessary for the support of 
life. The fatal morning broke dimly on hills all 
white with snow, and a sky along which the 
tempest hurled thick blinding drift. Alarmed foi 
his flock, the shepherd dressed in haste ; and, deaf 
to the entreaties of a prudent wife who implored 

21 



322 OUR FATHER'S BUSINESS. 

him to eat and strengthen nature for the coming 
struggle, he pulled his bonnet on his brow, and 
went out into the storm. It was bravely but 
rashly done. He never came back. Denied her 
necessary support, nature speedily sank under his 
violent exertions-; and he perished — the sleep he 
sought on the snow bank where they found his 
stiffened corpse, deepening into the torpor of death, 
the sleep that knows no waking. And if not their 
death — for they that are in Christ shall not finally 
perish — to what do saints often owe their falls 
and failings, but to their neglect of prayer, and 
of God's word, and of other divinely appointed 
means of grace ? He who would work without 
ceasing, must pray without ceasing. He who would 
do great things for God, must seek great things 
from Him. It is well, though faint, like Gideon, 
to be pursuing — getting on to heaven, though with 
faltering steps and many falls ; but it is better not 
to fall, to be pursuing and not fainting, constantly 
going on in the strength of the Lord. 

Still, it is no great wonder that God's people are 
sometimes ready to faint. The servant is no 
better than his master, and in Gethsemane Jesus 
himself sank under the weight of this mysterious 
burden. Even His strength seemed unequal to 
the task, as thrice under an agony that rent His 
bosom with groans and bedewed the grass with 
blood, He implored His Father, saying, Father if it 
be possible, let this cup pass from me ! The 
Saviour almost fainted. The greatest saints have 
done so. Though no fragile weed bending to the 
wind, but rather like a lighthouse tower, that 
shining through the deepest gloom and rising from 



PERSEVERANCE IN WELL-DOING. 323 

the solid rock, holds itself erect amid tempests 
which snap the stoutest masts, and, sending ships 
staggering through the waves, strew the shore 
with wrecks, Elijah fainted. Despairing of success, 
he abandoned his post ; threw up the helm ; took 
his strong hand from the plough ; and, wearied 
and worn out with what appeared a hopeless task, 
cast himself at God's feet to cry, O Lord, it is 
enough, take away my life ! We can enter into 
his feelings. How often does it seem impossible 
that we shall ever walk without stumbling, ever 
love God with all our hearts, ever closely follow 
Christ's holy footsteps, ever be ready and ripe for 
heaven ? Yet in such well-doing, let not God's 
people weary. In the pursuit of such noble, 
exalted objects, why should they faint ? The 
sweat standing on his brow, and the blood of 
the heathen dripping from his sword, Gideon, as he 
pressed on the flying foe, sought bread at the gate 
of Succoth. His request was refused ; and, the 
more honor to him and his followers, though 
refused and faint, they resumed the pursuit. But 
did any ever ask strength of God for well-doing, 
for his work, or watch, or warfare, and find the 
gates of prayer, like those of Succoth, shut in his 
face ? No. He giveth power to the faint, 

AND TO THEM THAT HAVE NO MIGHT HE 
INCREASETH STRENGTH. EVEN THE YOUTHS 
SHALL FAINT AND BE WEARY, AND THE YOUNG 
MEN SHALL UTTERLY FAIL ; BUT THEY THAT 
WAIT UPON THE LORD SHALL RENEW THEIR 
STRENGTH ; THEY SHALL MOUNT UP WITH WINGS 
AS EAGLES ; THEY SHALL RUN AND NOT BE 
WEARY ; THEY SHALL WALK AND NOT FAINT. 



324 OUR FATHER'S BUSINESS. 



ARISTOTLE — says South in one of his brilliant 
sermons — Aristotle is but the ruins of an Adam. 
This being the view of man which the Bible pre- 
sents, and the Fail accounts for, those who receive 
it in its integrity have been charged with holding 
low, mean, degrading views of the nature and of 
the dignity of man. In one sense this is true ; in 
another nothing is more false. It is true in so far as 
the Bible teaches us to believe that all men, in con- 
sequence of sin, are criminals in the sight of God 
and lie under sentence of death ; that all are dead 
in trespasses and sins ; that there is none that 
doeth good, no, not one ; and that, presenting sin 
in a totally different aspect from that in which it is 
regarded by many as a light and little thing, sin is 
exceeding sinful. Hence, brought by grace to see 
its vileness, and to feel its exceeding evil, the holiest 
men have always been the humblest, the strongest 
have felt the weakest, the best have thought the 
worst of themselves — David, the man after God's 
own heart, saying, I was as a beast before thee ; 
Job, the most remarkable character of his own or 
any age for piety and uprightness, saying, as he 
shrank from his own image, I abhor myself and 
repent in dust and ashes ; and Paul, though the 
greatest of all the apostles, much too great as well 



MAN'S INABILITY. 325 

ns honest to fish for compliments and depreciate 
himself that others might praise him, speaking of 
himself not as the least, but as less than the least, 
of all saints. If these are the terms in which men 
of the purest minds and holiest characters have felt 
constrained to speak of themselves, how is it pos- 
sible to entertain too low views of human nature ? 
What terms can express its degradation other than 
those of Scripture — our righteousnesses are as filthy 
rags ; or, in figures borrowed from the loathsome 
leprosy, the whole head is sick, the whole heart is 
faint, and there is no soundness in us, but wounds, 
and bruises, and putrefying sores. We do entertain 
low views of human nature ; and so, however loudly 
they assert its dignity, do others — all who put locks 
on their doors and a witness on his oath, build 
prisons and support police. 

Yet to allege that those who believe in the fall 
and corruption of human nature, cherish only low, 
mean, degrading views of man, is in another sense, 
quite wide of the truth. If the value of anything 
is to be estimated by its price, to what an 
immeasurable height of worth does it exalt man 
that God gave His Son to redeem him ! — redeem- 
ing him not with corruptible things such as silver 
and gold, but with the precious blood of Christ as 
of a lamb without spot or blemish. So far from 
cherishing low views of man, I believe that a gem 
of inestimable value lies concealed beneath the 
beggar's rags. A soul is there of divine-like 
faculties and of priceless worth : and a body also, 
which, though the seat of appetites that man 
shares with brutes, and of passions, perhaps, such 
as burn in the breasts of fiends, may become more 



3?6 OUR father's business. 

sacred than any fane built by human hands— a 
temple of the Holy Ghost. There is a worth in 
man no meanness of circumstances, no degradation 
of character can altogether conceal. He is a jewel, 
though buried in a heap of corruption ; the vilest 
outcast, possessing powers and affections that need 
only to be sanctified to ally him with angels, and 
make publicans and harlots fit for heaven. Fallen 
though he be, man is capable of undergoing, and, 
created anew in Jesus Christ, born of the Spirit, 
brought from nature into grace, undergoes, a more 
wondrous change than the insect when, no longer a 
worm, no longer crawling on the ground, no longer 
feeding on garbage, it leaves its shell to spend its 
happy days in sport, flitting from flower to flower ; 
its food their juices and its bed their leaves. We 
thus assert the dignity of man. Only that his 
greatest, purest dignity is seen, not in what he 
does, but what has been done for him ; not in 
what poets or philosophers have written, but the 
Bible has revealed of him as redeemed by the 
precious blood of Christ, as a living temple of the 
Holy Spirit, a son of God, and an heir of glory. 
Yet I remark, notwithstanding — 

Man can neither convert nor sanctify himself. 
Endowed with an intellect which, though defaced, 
has survived the Fall, his capacities and capabili- 
ties are great. As if he were a God, he measures 
the heavens, weighs the hills in scales, and the 
mountains in a balance. He subdues the elements, 
rides on the wind, rides on the waves ; makes the 
lightning his swift messenger ; and yoking fire and 
water to his chariot wheels, compels them to serve 
him. Prolific in invention and skilful in arts, as if 



man's inability. 327 

he were a creator, he can make the elements he 
subdues. Image of Him who giveth rain, whose 
voice is heard thundering in many waters, who 
cast^th out His ice in morsels, and scattereth His 
hoar-frost like ashes — man makes snow, and ice, 
and rain, and dew, and lightning ; and, falling on 
the strange discovery that the brilliant diamond is 
formed of the very same matter as coal, he has 
boldly pressed on his Maker's steps, and all but 
succeeded in rivalling nature's gems. But though 
it were hard to say — such is the progress of arts 
and science — what human skill may not accom- 
plish, it has its bounds. There is a line across 
which it has never passed, and cannot pass ; where 
a voice is heard, saying to the boldest adventurer, 
Hither shalt thou come but no further. By no 
skill or combinations of matter can man give being 
to the lowest living thing. Master of the elements, 
by their help he travels the earth with an eagle's 
speed ; wingless, he ascends into the air and 
traverses its pathless fields ; he makes the sea his 
high road — skims along its surface or descends to 
bring up the treasures that with the skeletons of 
men and wrecks of navies lie on its oozy bed. 
Yet there is not a living thing, the meanest that 
lives in earth, or air, or ocean, but it baffles his 
power to make. It were easier for him to make a 
planet than a plant. It were at least as easy to 
kindle a sun, or send a world spinning through the 
realms of space, as to make the lowest living thing 
— a worm ; the green mould of decay ; the humblest 
moss that clothes or lichen that colors a stone ; 
one of those creatures, thousands of which find a 
sea to swim in in a drop of water. However the 



328 our father's business. 

vivifying elements, as they are called, of light, and 
air, and heat, and moisture, may act as auxiliaries 
to the development of life, all that lives both in the 
vegetable and animal kingdoms had a parent like 
itself — from which it sprung by seed, or Ggg, or 
germ, or spore ; and every attempt which science 
has made to produce a living creature through the 
action of dead elements and the combinations of 
dead matter, has produced nothing but a failure — 
every such failure proving that the stream of natural 
life has its spring in the Creator, its fount nowhere 
but in God. 

Hear, O Israel, the Lord thy God is one Lord ! 
is the testimony borne to the divine unity by all 
the kingdoms over which He sways His sceptre. — 
There are innumerable analogies between nature 
and grace ; and the correspondence between God's 
works in both kingdoms only grows more manifest 
the more carefully they are studied. The discoveries 
of science are shedding a clearer and clearer light 
on the Word of God : and in the matter of spiritual 
life the study of nature prepares us to receive the 
revelations of the Bible. It is with the one as with 
the other life. As unable to awake the sinner as 
to awake the dead, man cannot give it. Our life is 
hid with Christ in God. Nor will any one who sees 
how no combination of means and circumstances, 
though important as auxiliaries to its development, 
can create life, changing dead into living matter, 
be astonished that Jesus, turning all eyes and hopes 
on Himself, said, " I am the way, the truth, the life." 
Therefore, He says, because I live, ye shall live 
also ; and thus it is true both of conversion and 
sanctification, " Except the Lord build the house, 



MANS INABILITY. $2Q 

they labor in vain that build it ; except the 
Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh in 
vain." 

It follows, from the foregoing, that we owe our 
success in spiritual matters not to ourselves, but to 
God. In temporal things, His hand is always as 
present, and sometimes almost as visible, as when 
it appeared to Belshazzar's eyes writing his doom 
on the plaster of his palace wall. It may be said, 
indeed, that manifest interpositions of Providence 
are rare ; and that for every ten persons in whose 
fortunes they appear in the shape of remarkable 
prosperity, relief from troubles, escape from danger 
or from imminent death, there are ten thousand 
who earn their bread, and bring up their families, 
and win their way in life entirely, so far as ap- 
pearance go, by their own exertions. Another 
King of Babylon — uncrowned, dethroned, bereft of 
reason, driven out to herd with cattle, the greatest, 
saddest spectacle of earthly vanity the world has 
seen — presents a monument of the unsoundness 
and danger of such views. He was taught to feel 
in his fall the hand he denied in his elevation. 
And since the heart may swell as proudly under 
frieze as imperial purple, and God be as little 
recognized amid the few comforts of a cottage 
as amid the luxuries of a palace, let us beware 
Many have been guilty of Nebuchadnezzar's crime, 
who neither wore his crown nor bore his punish- 
ment. 

What though our lives have been distinguished 
by no remarkable providence — does that prove 
that their success and our thanks are not due to 
God ? Tell me not that the hand of the diligent 



330 OUR father's BUSINESS. 

maketh rich. Will it do so unless He pleases f 
If He sees meet that men shall be poor, in vain 
they rise up early and lie down late, and eat the 
bread of sorrow. If He sends rain to drown our 
fields, can we shut up the windows of heaven ? 
If He raises a storm to sink our merchantmen, can 
we walk the sea with the foot of Jesus, or rise with 
Him to bid the waves be still ? If He roll a tide of 
bankruptcy over the affrighted land, can we arrest 
its progress, and say, ere it break on our house and 
beat it down, Hither shalt thou come, but no further ? 
In other words, hast thou an arm like God, or canst 
thou thunder with a voice like Him ? The means 
we use to preserve life and health, acquire wealth, 
honor, or any other earthly blessings, are nothing 
more than the levers, cranks, shafts, and rolling 
wheels of a machine, of which God is the moving 
power. It is His will, not ours, that makes our 
hearts to beat and the blood in our veins to 
circulate ; that makes food nourish and sweet sleep 
refresh us ; that makes our business yield its profits 
and our fields their harvests ; that sustains our 
efforts and crowns them with success. When our 
mountain standeth strong, let Him hide His face, 
and we are troubled. " Therefore," says the 
psalmist, in a burst of adoration, ''thine, O Lord, 
is the greatness, and the power, and the glory, and 
the victory, and the majesty ; for all that is in the 
heaven and the earth is thine : thine is the king- 
dom ; and both riches and honor come from thee ; 
and thou reignest over all." 

For all spiritual blessings we equally depend on 
God. How does the state of heathen countries 
prove that except He build the house, they labor 



MAN'S INABILITY. 33 1 

in vain that build it ? In their case the experiment 
has been tried : and the result, to keep up the figure, 
is a house indeed, but one based on sand ; daubed 
with untempered mortar ; and ready, so soon as 
the floods rise, and the winds blow, and the rains 
descend, to bury its miserable owner in its ruins. 
What man, independently of his word, can know of 
God, and do for himself, is not proved, as some 
allege, by the correct principles of morality and 
conceptions of the Divine Being to be found in 
the writings of infidels. They parade the world 
in borrowed feathers, and shine in stolen gems. 
Whatever is high in their morality, or correct in 
their notions of God, I trace to the very book they 
profess to despise and reject. Would we see what 
man can know of God, or be without Him and His 
word, turn to those lands where no ray of gospel 
truth has ever shone ; and where, by the lurid light 
of altars red with blood, we see man kneeling to 
a beast, to a stock, to a stone ; practising cruelties 
and crimes he vainly seeks to expiate by offering 
the fruit of his body for the sin of his soul. Dark- 
ness covereth the earth, and gross darkness the 
people. 

And when we open the Bible it is to see, in what- 
ever aspect our salvation is regarded, that the pivot 
on w r hich it turns is not the power or will of man, 
but the mercy and the might of God. Whose was 
the love salvation sprang from ? whose the Eden 
promise that begat hope in the bosom of despair ? 
whose the finger that wrote the holy law ? whose 
the prophets that heralded the Saviour ? whose the 
Son that was cradled in Bethlehem and crucified 
on Calvary ? whose the Spirit that, taking of the 



332 OUR FATHER S BUSINESS. 

things of Christ, applies them — turning the sinner 
into a saint, a child of the devil into a son of God 
and an heir of glory ? These questions admit of 
but one answer. That love, that promise, that 
finger, that Son, that Spirit is God's. In Him all 
our well-springs are ; nor by any hand but His was 
forged one single link of the golden chain that 
binds believers to the skies : " Whom he did fore- 
know, them he did predestinate to be conformed 
to the image of his Son ; and whom he did pre- 
destinate, them he also called ; and whom he 
called, them he also justified ; and whom he justi- 
fied, them he also glorified." 

What the Bible in these words, elsewhere, and 
everywhere indeed, teaches, daily experience proves. 
Thousands possess the means of salvation, and 
might be saved, who are not. They starve by a 
table loaded with bread ; die beside a fountain 
into which they have only to descend to be healed : 
with Christ within their sight, within their cry, 
opening heaven to others, they perish with the thief 
who perished at His bleeding side. Two men are 
in one bed, one is taken, and the other left : two 
women are grinding at the mill, one is taken, and 
the other left — a circumstance painfully illustrated 
in the spiritual history of many a family and many 
a church. Of two children reared under the same 
roof, taught the same truths, guarded with the same 
holy care, one is taken and the other left — of two 
members of the same church, sitting in the same 
pew, hearing the same sermons, baptized in the 
same font, and drinking of the same cup, how 
dissimilar their fates ! — one is taken and the other 
left. Mysteries these that nothing can unlock but 



man's inability. 333 

this, that salvation is not of flesh or blood, or of 
the will of man, but of God — that it is not by might 
nor by power, but by my Spirit, saith the Lord of 
Hosts. 

For the purpose of teaching a truth that should 
inspire and animate our prayers, God has often 
wrought out His ends by the most unlikely means, 
There are objects in nature not less astonishing 
for the smallness of the worker than the greatness 
of the work. Such are the coral walls around those 
lovely isles that, carpeted with flowers, clothed 
with palms, and enjoying an everlasting summer, 
lie scattered like gems on the bosom of the Pacific. 
These, with the ocean roaring in its fury before 
them, and behind them the lagoon lying like a 
molten mirror broken only by the dash of a sea 
bird or the dip of passing oar, are stupendous 
ramparts. Compared to them our greatest break- 
waters dwindle into insignificance. One of these 
reefs off the coast of New Holland is a thousand 
miles in length, and how many hundred feet in 
depth, I know not. Yet the masons that build 
these are creatures so small as to be almost 
invisible. Such mighty works does God accomplish 
by instruments so mean ! a sight that helps a 
believer — though he has to say with Nehemiah, I 
have a great work to do — to take heart and hope, 
and say with Paul, I can do all things through 
Christ which strengtheneth me. 

But we have not to go to nature to see God 
accomplishing great purposes by unlikely means. 
The Bible is full of such examples. We should 
have committed the treasures of divine truth to the 
charge of some mighty monarch, and called the 



334 OUR FATHER S BUSINESS. 

Saviour of the world from the loins of a Cyrus of 
a Caesar — of one whose weakness should not tempt 
him to seek safety in a lie, and whose family should 
have been in no danger of dying through famine. 
My ways are not as your ways, says God, neither 
are my thoughts as your thoughts. In Abraham, 
an obscure Chaldean, an exile, a wanderer without 
any home but a tent, or property in the soil but 
a grave, God puts the dearest interests of mankind 
into the weakest hands. In that patriarch the hopes 
of the world hang on a man around whose head 
swords are flashing, and into whose breast — but 
that his steward perhaps in the battle he fought to 
rescue Lot thrusts it aside — the robber buries his 
spear. In him and Sarah the hopes of the world 
are hung on a pair whose bed is childless, and on 
whose heads time has shed its snows. And again, 
when a child is born to them in Isaac, the salvation 
of a lost world hangs by a single strand : and again 
in Jacob's family, it turns on a dream and fortunes 
as unlikely as any that fill the pages of a romance. 
With Abraham in the battle; with Isaac on the 
altar ; with Joseph in the dungeon ; with Moses 
cast on the water ; with Rahab in the beleaguered 
city ; on yon field, where, with two armies looking 
on a stripling goes out to meet the giant ; on yon 
plain, where, through the midnight gloom, we see 
a mother hurrying with her babe from the swords 
of Herod and the massacre of Bethlehem, how often 
was the light of truth nearly extinguished, the ark 
that carried the hopes of the world all but wrecked ? 
Never to human sight was good ship more nearly 
wrecked ! 

Nothing is more remarkable in the Bible than ta 



MAN'S INABILITY. 335 

see how God, as if to teach us to trust in nothing 
and in none but Himself, selects means that seem 
the worst fitted to accomplish His end. Does He 
choose an ambassador to Pharaoh ? — it is a man of 
stammering tongue. Are the streams of Jericho to 
be sweetened ? — salt is cast into the spring. Are 
the eyes of the blind to be opened ? — they are 
rubbed with clay. Are the battlements of a city to 
be thrown down ? — the means employed is, not the 
blast of a mine, but the breath of an empty trumpet. 
Is a rock to be riven ? — the lightning is left to 
sleep above and the earthquake with its throes to 
sleep below, and the instrument is one, a rod, much 
more likely to be shivered on the rock than to 
shiver it. Is the world to be converted by preach- 
ing, and won from sensual delights to a faith whose 
symbol is a cross and whose crown is to be won 
among the fires of martyrdom ? — leaving schools, 
and halls, and colleges, God summons His preachers 
from the shores of Galilee. The helm of the 
Church is entrusted to hands that had never steered 
aught but a fishing-boat ; and by the mouth of one 
who had been its bloodiest persecutor, Christ 
pleads His cause before the philosophers of Athens 
and in the palaces of Rome. And when He chose 
the weak things of the world to confound the 
strong, and the foolish to confound the wise, what 
did God mean to teach us but that we are to look 
above the instruments to the great hand that 
moves them ; and that, whether it was a giant or a 
devil that was to be conquered, the eyes of the 
body or of the soul that were to be opened, walls 
of stone, or, what are stronger, walls of ignorance 
and sin that were to be overthrown, men are but 



336 our father's business. 

instruments in His hand, — the meanest mighty with 
Him, the mightiest mean without Him ! 

This inability forms no reason why a sinner 
seeking to be saved, or a saint to be sanctified, 
should not use means — giving all diligence, indeed, 
to lay hold on eternal life, to grow in grace, to 
make their calling and election sure. Well and 
justly is God's service called reasonable. All that 
it requires is that men bring the same good 
common sense to their spiritual interests which 
they employ in conducting their ordinary affairs. 
' ' Give us day by day our daily bread" does not 
imply that we expect to be fed like Israel with 
manna, or like Elijah by ravens. While by such a 
prayer acknowledging himself a pensioner on God's 
bounty, man sows his fields ; waits on his business 
and on his God ; prays and ploughs together. 
Even so in all, likewise, that concerns our highest 
interest, we are, to use the words of Scripture, 
to be, " fellow-laborers, " co-operating, working 
together with God ; doing on our part what we 
can do, and God on His part doing what, though 
indispensable, we cannot do. These two cases, 
taken from Christ's history, happily illustrate this. 

It is a Sabbath morning ; and, its doors thrown 
open as the hour of worship approaches, the 
synagogue begins to fill. Among those who enter 
is a man with a withered hand ; and however 
others come, there is haste in his step and high ex- 
pectation seated on his brow. Blessed day, now 
is his chance to be healed. Jesus is in the neigh- 
borhood, and is sure to be at worship. Early 
there, likely the first, this crippled man, heeding 
nothing else, looking at none, talking with none, 



MAN'S INABILITY. 337 

keeps his eye on the door — keenly observing all 
who enter, and often, as it opens and Christ 
appears not, disappointed. At length the feet of a 
group are heard ; again the door opens ; and the 
color that flushes his face tells that the person 
has now come whom he has come to meet. Nor is 
this all he can do, and does. Observing where 
Jesus, attended by His disciples, sits, he rises, and, 
elbowing the crowd aside without regard to their 
challenge or murmurs, pushes on to place himself 
before the Saviour, — right in His eye. All this he 
can do, and does, and more. Ordinarily concealing 
a deformity he was ashamed of, he now drops his 
robe, and, exposing the poor unsightly hand in the 
hope that it may catch Christ's eye and move His 
pity, sits with looks fixed imploringly on our Lord. 
There was no need for him to speak. His eager 
looks and the poor, bared, withered hand were 
touching prayers. Nor did these prayers wait long 
for an answer. The eye that never saw misery but 
to pity it is at length turned on him ; and Jesus 
says, Stretch out thine hand ! Strange command 
to others, perhaps also to himself — as bidding him 
do the very thing he had no power to do. Still he 
tries it. Again doing what he can, he makes an 
effort — and, Glory to God ! bursting from his 
lips, succeeds. Virtue goes out of Christ. The 
shrunken hand instantly acquires a healthful color, 
and swells into its right proportions. In his joy 
the man shuts and opens it ; moves the pliant 
fingers ; and holds the miracle aloft to the gaze of 
a crowd, dumb with astonishment. Give him a 
harp, and with that hand he would sweep its 
sounding strings to the praise of Jesus Pattern to 

22 



338 OUR father's business. 

men who have souls to be saved, and hearts to 
cure, he did what he could — using all means within 
his power to obtain the blessing. And, did people, 
with equal eagerness, repair to the church on 
Sabbath, as he to the synagogue, to meet Jesus 
Christ, and with the same earnestness and the 
same faith, lay out their sins and soul's sorrows 
before Him, our Sabbaths would witness greater 
works than this-— He who healed that withered 
hand healing withered hearts, and, whether they 
required to be saved or sanctified, giving power to 
them that have no might. 

Take another case. Covered with dust, footsore 
and weary, a messenger presents himself to our 
Lord, and speaking in Mary and Martha's name, 
says, Behold he whom thou lovest is sick ! Tell a 
mother that her child is fallen into the river. It is 
enough. She stays to ask no questions, to hear no 
more. She is off on flying feet ; and, descrying its 
sinking head, with one wild scream she leaps like a 
flash into the roaring flood. With no such haste, 
much as He loved Lazarus, did Jesus turn His steps 
to Bethany ; but abiding where He was for two 
days, left His friend to die ; even as, with a still 
grander purpose in view, on seeing the serpent 
creep into Eden He made no haste from heaven, 
but left our first parents to fall. He whom He 
loved has died, is buried ; and four days thereafter 
the news that " the Master is come" brings the 
sisters this consolation, that, though they have lost 
a brother in Lazarus, they have still a friend in 
Christ — one who sticketh closer than any brother, 
and who, as the event proved, can restore a brother. 
They go to the grave to weep, but He to wrench 



man's inability. 339 

its bars asunder, and stand there more conspicu- 
ously than in almost any other scene both God 
and man ; in His works a God and in His tears a 
man. He is to raise the dead. Yet though the 
chief He is not the only actor on a stage where it 
might be fancied man had no part to play. By 
that tomb men do not sit mere spectators of the 
might and majesty of Godhead, Jesus addressing 
them to say, Stand back, stand still and see the 
salvation of God ! A great stone closes the mouth 
of the sepulchre ; standing, with the Saviour in 
front and the corpse behind it, between the living 
and the dead. It must be removed : and Christ 
has only to say the word, and, moved by hands 
invisible, it rolls away to disclose the secrets of the 
tomb. But He who takes away stony hearts, 
because none other can, does not take away this 
stone ; nor address it, but those who have put 
it there, and can take it thence. He requires 
them to do what they can — each doing their 
part ; theirs to roll away the stone and His to 
raise the dead. Now, though we can neither 
convert nor sanctify ourselves or others, yet 
man has something, and much to do, as is plain 
from such words as these, "Cast away from you 
all your transgressions, whereby ye have trans- 
gressed ; and make you a new heart and a new 
spirit : for why will ye die ?" Strictly speaking, 
we cannot make us a new heart, but we can place 
ourselves or others in a position for God to make 
it. We can remove obstructions to that gracious and 
holy change — we can dispel ignorance, put away 
temptation, abandon bad habits — the drunkard's 
cup, for instance — renounce pleasures that occupy 



340 OUR FATHER S BUSINESS. 

our hearts. Thus removing what obstructs the 
flow of life and grace from Christ, we can " take 
away the stone ;" and, co-operating with God in 
the use of these and all divinely appointed means, 
we can, and, as we can, we ought to work out our 
salvation with fear and trembling, God working in 
us both to will and to do of His good pleasure. 

It is with man and God in the production of 
spiritual, as with the skies and the soil in the 
production of material, fruit. Gathering harvests 
each successive year from fields whose wealth 
of fruitfulness seems exhaustless, we say, How 
bountiful is the earth! — the world's, like the 
widow's, meal-barrel, is never empty. We speak 
of the fruits of earth, and the flowers of earth, and 
the harvests of earth ; but these, her offspring, 
have another parent. Heaven claims their sweet 
juices, and fragrant odors, and glorious colors, as 
hers, and most her own. To the treasures of light, 
heat, rain, and dews, poured from exhaustless skies 
on the dull cold soil, earth's flowers owe their 
beauty, her gardens their fruits, her fields their 
golden harvests. Each, at any rate, has its own 
part to do ; nor would a husbandman labor to 
less purpose under a sunless sky on fields bound 
hard with frost and buried in perpetual snow, than 
preachers without the cheering, warming, enlivening 
influences of the Sun of Righteousness, the dews of 
grace, and the blessing of the Spirit. Man's is 
but a husbandman's office — to plant ; to water ; 
nothing more. " Paul," as the apostle himself says, 
"pianteth, Apollos watereth, but God giveth the 
increase ; so, then, neither is he that pianteth 
anything, nor he that watereth, but God that 



MAN'S INABILITY. 34 i 

giveth the increase." And thus, whether we 
preach or are preached to, when most diligent in 
the use of means, let a sense of our inability turn 
our eyes and all our hopes on God. With Him 
is the blessing and the residue of the Spirit. 
Nothing, indeed, so much hinders the cure of a 
soul as what helps the cure of a body. Many as 
the analogies between the processes of grace and 
nature are, here there is none — but a total dis- 
similarity. In that anxious sick room, where life 
and death struggle for the mastery, it is all-import- 
ant to sustain the patient's strength. This offers, 
so to speak, his only chance ; and for that end 
there is no charm in drug or stimulant more potent 
than boundless confidence rn the skill of the 
physician. Such confidence in man lies at the 
foundation of the physician's success ; such confi- 
dence in man is fatal to a minister's. This may be 
one reason why, with so many sermons, there are 
so few conversions ; why, among the crowds that 
throng God's house, so many depart unblessed, 
unsaved, unsanctified — no better, but rather worse. 
God will not give His blessing to such as, shutting 
Him out, put their confidence in the use of means 
— in the virtue of sacraments or the power of 
sermons, in dead books or living preachers. He is 
a jealous God, and will not give His glory to an- 
other. 



342 OUR FATHER'S BUSINESS. 



Were we to judge of the matter by the conduct 
of many, we should conclude it to be by no means 
a difficult thing to be a Christian. They seem to 
think it almost as easy to wash one's heart as their 
hands ; to change their habits as their dress ; to 
admit the light of Divine truth into the soul as the 
morning into our chamber by opening the shutters ; 
— in short, that it is not more difficult to turn the 
heart from evil to good, from the world to God, 
and from sin to Christ, than to turn a ship right 
round by help of her helm. 

How else can we account for many, otherwise 
sensible people, putting off their salvation to a 
time confessedly unsuitable for any arduous task 
whatever — till, reduced to a state of mental and 
physical prostration, they lie languishing on a bed 
of sickness, or tossing on a bed of death ? It ought 
to be an easy work that is deferred till then : yet 
what a sad mistake is this ? An easy work to be a 
Christian ! — as if the life required of those who go 
to heaven were in such harmony with our natural 
feelings that it was like being borne along on the 
surface of a placid stream. "Take now thy son, 
thy only son Isaac, whom thou lovest, and get thee 
into the land of Moriah, and offer him there for a 
burnt-offering on a mountain which I will tell thee 



god's ability. 343 

of," was the command God laid on Abraham, the 
trial to which He put His servant's faith ; and how 
did its every sentence quiver like an arrow, go like 
a knife into the old man's heart ? Was it easy 
for a father to brace up his nerves to such a deed ; 
to look on the beloved youth, the innocent and 
unsuspecting victim, for those three dreadful days 
they travelled together to the fatal spot ; to lay 
the wood on Isaac that, kindled by a father's hand, 
was to consume his son to ashes ; to meet that 
natural but terrible question, " My father, behold 
the fire and the wood, but where is the lamb for a 
burnt-offering ?" And when the fell purpose could 
be concealed no longer, and the dreaded hour at 
length had come when Abraham must raise the 
veil, was it easy to look on Isaac's horror and 
resist his entreaties, and hear his agonizing cries ? 
or even witness his resignation as, moved by his 
father's grief, and pitying him more than himself, 
he stretched his body on the altar, saying, Father, 
not my will, but thine be done ? And when with 
trembling hands the old man wound the cords 
around his limbs, and felt them tremble, had it not 
been easier to be the child than the father, the 
victim than the priest at such a sacrifice ? One 
stroke of the knife, and Isaac's woes are past ; but 
if he does not rise like a phoenix from his ashes, 
what a return to his home awaits Abraham ! what 
a meeting with the mother ! what a future to the 
poor old man ! His heart is broken, and his gray 
hairs go down with sorrow to the grave. 

Never again may love to God be put to such a 
test, or faith in His promises have such a trial to 
endure. Still it is no easy thing to be a Christian ; 



344 0UR father's business. 

and, if words have any meaning, they are great and 
painful sacrifices which are required of those who 
are willing to take Christ on His own terms : " If any 
man will come after me, let him deny himself, and 
take up his cross daily, and follow me " — " If thy 
right eye offend thee, pluck it out and cast it from 
thee : for it is profitable for thee that one of thy 
members should perish, and not that thy whole 
body should be cast into hell. And if thy right 
hand offend thee, cut it off, and cast it from thee : 
for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members 
should perish, and not that thy whole body should 
be cast into hell." God does not indeed put all 
His people to such a trial as Abraham's, saying, 
" Take now thy son, and offer him for a burnt- 
offering," nor does Christ lay on all His disciples an 
injunction so hard as this, "Go, sell all thou hast, 
and give it to the poor." Still the adage holds true 
as ever, No cross, no crown ! To mortify the lusts 
of the flesh, to be crucified to the world, to overcome 
the devil, to die daily to sin, and live daily to 
righteousness, to be meek and gentle, and patient 
and generous and kind and good, in one word to 
be Christ-like, is a work beyond far beyond our 
ability ; one we should never venture on, or having 
ventured on, would soon abandon, but that God 
promises to perfect His strength in our weakness, 
and is "mighty to save." 

Now the best evidence we have of what God can 
and will do is what He has already done. This was 
the source of Moses' confidence when he left the 
land of Midian to conquer the power of Egypt, and 
bring Israel out of the house of bondage. Behold, 
he said to God, when first called to undertake the 



god's ability. 345 

task — behold, the people will not believe that I am 
able to deliver them. " What is that in thine 
hand ?" said the voice from amidst the burning 
bush. A rod, was his reply. " Cast it on the 
ground," said the voice. He did it ; and springs 
back with sudden terror — surprise, fear, horror in 
his countenance, for there a serpent with head 
erect, and eyes of fire, and cleft quivering tongue, 
is hissing at him. Once more the voice sounds out 
from the bush, " Put forth thine hand, and take it 
by the tail." Recovering from his panic, he boldly 
seizes the writhing reptile ; and now its cold, scaly 
form is no sooner within his grasp than, like many 
things else which become harmless in the hand of 
faith, the venomed creature stiffens into a shep- 
herd's rod. His confidence established on a firm 
foundation, Moses hesitates no longer. Entrusting 
his wife and children to her father's care, and 
leaving others to feed his flocks on the hills of 
Midian, he enters boldly on his mission. Repairing 
to his countrymen he tells them his errand. The 
rod is his credentials. It shall speak for him. 
Assured that what God has once done He can do 
again, he bids them look. His answer to such as 
question or doubt his authority is a shepherd's rod, 
which, flung from his hand, no sooner touches the 
ground, than it changes to a living serpent. 

And though man has no inherent power to 
sanctify any more than to save himself, even, 
according to the v/ords of the apostle, to think one 
good thought, let us, with Moses, David, and the 
saints of old, remember the years of the right hand 
of the Most High. See what, for such great 
and gracious purposes, God has done for others, 



346 OUR father's business. 

and thus learn what He can and will do fot 

us ! 

Take two instances. Look at the thief on the 
cross. It is from the very edge of the pit, just as 
he is going over, that the mighty hand of Jesus 
plucks him. Who that heard that robber with his 
fellow and the base crowd insult a dying Saviour, 
who that saw him nailed to his cross, a daring, 
despairing, hardened ruffian, could have believed it 
possible that a few hours thereafter he would be 
singing songs in Paradise ? Yet the sun of that 
day had not set behind Judah's hills ere a blas- 
pheming wretch ripe for hell was converted, saved, 
and sanctified ; and had taken his flight to heaven 
to tell to listening angels what mercy had done for 
him — how Christ had saved him at the uttermost. 
Look also at Paul. The old bed of the sea laid 
bare for the foot of Israel, the dry rock changed 
into a gushing fountain, the rotting tenant of the 
tomb rising at Christ's word, to appear, once 
divested of the grave-clothes, with life sparkling in 
his eye and health blooming on his rosy cheek, did 
not attest God J s power over dead matter more 
plainly than Paul's conversion attests His power 
over a depraved heart. What more incredible 
than that yonder man who, with a fierceness, a 
firmness of purpose, and an intensity of hatred 
uncommon to the ingenuous years of youth, stands 
glutting his eyes with Stephen's blood, would ere 
long be Christ's greatest and most devoted apostle : 
and would die, after a life of unparalleled sufferings, 
a martyr in the very cause for which he shed the 
first martyr's blood ? Yet so it was. Is anything 
too hard for Me ? saith the Lord ; in other and 



GOD S ABILITY. 347 

fuller words — is any heart too hard for Me to 
break ; any sin too great for Me to pardon ; any 
passions too strong for Me to bind ; any habits too 
old for Me to change ; any prayer too great for Me 
to answer ; or any wants too many for Me to 
supply ? The blessed lesson such cases teach us is 
this, that however great the difficulties, or deep the 
sorrows, or strong the temptations, or arduous the 
duties of His people, His grace, as He promises, 
shall be sufficient for them. And so they may use 
the highest and yet the humblest, the bravest 
though by no means boastful saying that ever fell 
from mortal lips — "I can do all things through 
Christ which strengtheneth me." 

Such is the help which His people have in their 
God ; and this furnishes the key to the strange 
paradox of Paul, " When I am weak, then am I 
strong " — in other, and apparently self-contradict- 
ory words, when I am weak then I am not weak ; 
when I am not strong, then I am strong. Peter's 
history, and that of many others besides, supplies 
a remarkable illustration of the reverse proposi- 
tion, this namely, When I am strong, then am I 
weak. Let us look at it. So strong was Simon 
in his own vain judgment that in place of waiting 
till Christ invited him to walk on the water, he 
volunteered to mkke the bold attempt. Address- 
ing his Master as, stepping with Godlike majesty 
from billow to billow, He approached their boat, 
Peter said, " Lord, if it be thou, bid me come unto 
thee on the water." To drown not him but his 
vanity, and mortify the conceit and presumption 
which was his besetting sin, our Lord acceded to 
Peter's request, saying, Come. The permission is 



348 OUR father's business. 

no sooner granted than, probably without a prayef 
for Divine help, and certainly with more rashness 
than genuine courage, he leaps from the boat. 
The water bears him up : he walks the rolling 
billows — yet, ere he rejoins his companions, how 
effectually is he taught that when a man is strong, 
then he is weak ? He began to build without 
counting the cost ; and the only result is a house 
which, unfinished and unfurnished, remains the 
inglorious monument of his pride and poverty. 
Its terror increased by the gloom of night, the 
storm raves and roars, and the waves rushing on 
with foaming crests threaten to engulf him, and 
avenge themselves on the puny mortal who has 
dared to defy their power. His situation is novel 
and alarming. A panic seizes him ; his courage 
melts like a snow-flake on the water ; he feels the 
waves opening beneath his feet ; he sinks, deeper 
and deeper sinks, till this rash adventurer, who 
would walk the sea, the rival of his Master and the 
envy of his fellows, raises his drowning head to 
throw out his arms and cry, Lord, save me ! As 
has often happened where there was more than 
life at stake, and in scenes less picturesque, or 
public, Jesus hastes to the rescue — "a refuge and 
strength, a very present help in time of trouble ;" 
and, upheld by the arm that upholds the universe, 
Peter is borne back to his companions, who re- 
ceive him into the boat, pale, half-drowned, trem- 
bling with abject terror — a warning and very 
memorable illustration of the saying, " Pride goeth 
before a fall." 

For a contrast look at Moses — the feelings with 
which he undertook, and the manner in which he 



god's ability. 349 

executed his commission to deliver Israel from 
Pharaoh and the house of bondage. What a re- 
markable and happy contrast his case to Peter's ! 
Strong in the Lord, and in the power of His might, 
he forced his way into the palace, and bore him- 
self before the king with undaunted courage — de- 
manding the liberties of his countrymen. Single- 
handed and alone he stuck by his purpose, and 
carried it over what seemed insuperable difficulties. 
Without arms he undertook to conquer armies ; to 
cross the sea without ships ; and in a journey 
extending over many years, to carry a mighty 
host safely through a desert where there was 
neither water to quench their thirst, nor bread 
to satisfy their hunger. All this, and much more 
than this, Moses did ; nor closed his eyes in death 
till he saw the longest, grandest march men ever 
made brought to a triumphant issue on the borders 
of the Promised Land. But Peter's enterprise 
and his were not more different in their conclusion 
than in their commencement. Self-confident, rash, 
vain, impulsive, the fisherman of Galilee rushed 
on the perils of the deep ; while Moses, a man 
more highly endowed by nature and cultivated 
by education, shrunk from the task assigned him ; 
declined the post of honor ; and, overwhelmed 
by a sense of his own weakness and inadequacy, 
even remonstrated with God, saying, "Who am 
I, that I should go unto Pharaoh ?" Nor till 
the Lord's anger was actually kindled against 
him, as he stood there starting one objection 
after another, did he venture to undertake the 
task. He went to it, not in his own strength, 
but in the might of God. To Him he looked 



350 OUR father's business. 

for counsel and courage, for faith, patience, and 
success. And He who did not fail Moses, will 
never fail any that put their trust in Him. The 
salvation of the righteous is of the Lord ; He 
is their strength in the time of trouble ; the 
Lord shall help them and deliver them, and 
save them because they trust in Him. There- 
fore with the courage they may lift up the battle 
song of Martin Luther, and in words which 
cheered the hearts and sustained the arms ol 
Germany in the good fight of the Reformation, 
sing: 

A sure stronghold our God is He, 

A trusty shield and weapon, 
Our help He'll be, and set us free 
From every ill can happen. 
That old malicious foe 
Intends us deadly woe ; 
Armed with the strength of hell, 
And deepest craft as well, 
On earth is not his fellow. 

Through our own force we nothing can, 

Straight were we lost for ever ; 
But for us fights the proper Man, 
By God sent to deliver. 
Ask ye who this may be ? 
Christ Jesus named is He, 
Of Sabaoth the Lord ; 
Sole God to be adored ; 
'Tis He must win the battle. 

And were the world with devils filled, 

All eager to devour us, 
Our souls to fear should little yield, 
They cannot overpower us. 
Their dreaded prince no more 
Can harm us as of yore ; 



god's ability. 351 

Look grim as e'er he may, 
Doom'd is his ancient sway, 
A word can overthrow him. 

Our confidence in God's ability to save and help 
us the bold prayer of faith, " Awake, awake, put on 
thy strength, O arm of the Lord ; awake as in the 
ancient days, in the days of old," rests on this sure 
foundation that God is the same yesterday, to-day, 
and for ever. Moses when he led Israel out of 
Egypt, — their house of bondage, — had reached the 
fourscore years that David says prove to the few 
who attain such an age but labor and sorrow. 
For forty years thereafter he guides their wander- 
ings through the desert, till, way-worn and weary, 
they reach the welcome borders of the Promised 
Land. They are to enter it ; but not he, though 
ere his eyes close in death he is to see it. For 
this purpose he is directed to climb the heights of 
Pisgah — a lofty mountain in Moab, whose top affords 
the spectator a wide though distant view of Pales- 
tine. But should our imaginations picture Moses 
as an aged man, stooping under the weight of 
years as, with many a breathing pause, he slowly 
takes his way up the steep, till, arrived at the 
summit, he falls exhausted on the ground or leans 
panting on his staff, and, while the mountain-breeze 
plays with his thin gray locks, strains his old eyes 
on the valleys of Canaan that stretch away to the 
horizon beyond the silver line of Jordan and gloomy 
waters of the Dead Sea, should we imagine this, 
our fancy were wide of the mark. Moses was now 
one hundred and twenty years old ; yet he climbed 
the heights and stood on the top of Pisgah, with 
an eye as bright, an arm as strong, a foot as fleet, 



352 OUR father's business. 

a bearing as erect and manly as when, forty years 
before, he bearded the lion in his den — the tyrant 
in his palace, and, boldly stepping into Pharaoh's 
hall, said, " Thus saith the Lord. . . Let my people 
go!" In the words of the wondrous story, "his 
eye was not dim, neither was his natural strength 
abated." 

But in this Moses presented a singular exception 
to the common fate of men. A few years, and 
cares and sorrows write their wrinkles on man's 
brow ; time sheds its snows on raven locks ; the 
wheels of life get clogged with growing infirmities ; 
manly strength turns into weakness, and wisdom 
perhaps into the drivelling of second childhood. 
And even where the power men possessed was, 
as it must necessarily have been in Moses' case, 
preternatural and miraculous, still the old adage 
holds true — " Times change and we change with 
them." 

Take these two examples in illustration of that 
remark. First, the case of Samson, whose great 
strength saved his country from oppression, and 
struck terror into the boldest of his enemies. A 
lion meets him, and taking it by the jaws, he rends 
it like a young kid, asunder : sure of their prey, 
they shut him up in Gaza, and he wrenches off its 
ponderous gates, and, bearing them to a neighbor- 
ing hill-top, laughs his enemies to scorn : catching 
him to a disadvantage, the Philistines beset him, 
and, for lack of sword or battle-axe, seizing a jaw- 
bone that lies at his hand, he throws himself on 
their serried ranks, and, cutting down a man at 
every blow, leaves a thousand dead on the field. 
Yet see — his long locks lying on Delilah's floor, 






god's ability. 353 

and the harlot that betrayed him counting her ill- 
earned gains — Samson is led away bound, the 
laughing-stock of women and children. Now a poor, 
blinded prisoner making sport to the Philistines, 
how are the mighty fallen ! — his hand is shortened 
that it cannot save. Then, for a second example, 
look at the disciples. On descending from the 
Mount of Transfiguration, our Lord finds them 
surrounded by an agitated crowd, who regard them 
with conflicting feelings ; some with wonder, some 
with pity, some with sneering contempt. Endowed 
by their Master with miraculous powers, they had 
aforetime put them forth with success, and tri- 
umphed on many fields — they had opened the eyes 
of the blind ; at their bidding dumb lips had spoken, 
the deaf had heard, wan, withered limbs had been 
restored to use ; and without David's harp, or other 
charm than their great Master's name, they had 
dispossessed men of demons, and driven the foul 
fiends away. But now Jesus finds them humbled, 
mortified, put to shame before a crowd of on- 
lookers. A father, whose ear their fame had 
reached and whose heart it had inspired with hope, 
brings to them his son — sore vexed with a devil. 
But it is to be bitterly disappointed. One after 
another, they try each holy art ; but in vain. They 
name the name of Jesus. It avails not ; and hope 
sinks in the father's heart as his son sinks yelling, 
foaming, convulsed and contorted at his feet. Like 
Samson when his hair was shorn, the disciples are 
as other men : their hand has lost its cunning — it is 
shortened that it cannot save. But, blessed be His 
name, it is never so with our God. What He has 
done, He can do again. So they that trust in the 

23 



354 OUR FATHERS BUSINESS. 

Lord shall never be put to shame — their security 
for that standing in the very nature of God. He is 
unchanging and unchangeable. " I am the Lord," 
He says, " I am the Lord. I change not." 

With what confidence, therefore, may we cast 
our burdens on Him whose mercy endureth for 
ever, whose grace faileth never. It is not with 
Him as it may be with other monarchs, other 
pastors, and other parents. There are monarchs 
whose dominions are more extensive than they 
can govern with advantage either to their subjects 
or to themselves — the influence of authority and 
of justice diminishing with distance, like that of 
the heart which, in persons of giant stature, as 
the slow circulation indicates, is always feeble at 
the extremities. There are ministers also in charge 
of flocks much more numerous than they can 
properly attend to ; who, however conscientiously 
and diligently they labor to leave none neglected, 
find it as impossible to overtake all their duties 
as a man, let him run as he may, to overtake 
the horizon, which flies before him. Then there 
are many fathers who have more children than 
in hard times and circumstances they find it easy, 
or almost possible to support. Uncared for by 
thousands who fare sumptuously, and millions who 
fare comfortably, every day, there are sad homes 
in this world, where abject poverty curdles up 
the natural affections ; and, leaving one mouth 
less to fill, the death of a child is regarded rather 
as the removal of a burden than the loss of a 
blessing. The ability of the wretched parents to 
support their offspring falls so far short at any 
rate of their wishes, it needs such a struggle to 



god's ability. 355 

keep body and soul together, that the poor infant 
is not always welcomed into the world ; and I have 
stood in bare, cold, unfurnished houses wiiere no 
passage of Scripture could sound stranger in mortal 
ears than these beautiful words in theirs : " Thy 
children shall be like olive plants round about thy 
table. As arrows are in the hand of a mighty 
man, so are children of the youth. Happy is the 
man that hath his quiver full of them." 

Such melancholy spectacles, when saddest and 
most painful, have their uses. By way of contrast 
they set forth to the comfort of His believing 
people the ability that is in their God, even as 
the dull foil sets off the gem, and a murky storm- 
cloud the bow that spans it. For just as one day 
is with God as a thousand years, and a thousand 
years as one day, it is the same to His infinite 
love, and power, and wisdom, and mercy, whether 
the objects of His care be one, or one thousand ; 
or, as is actually the case with the redeemed of 
God, a great company which no man can number. 
This is a lesson, for there are 

Tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, 
Sermons in stones, and good in everything 

which we may read on the page of nature. 
Myriads of leaves clothe the forests, myriads of 
flowers bespangle the meadow, myriads of insects 
dance in the sunbeams, myriads of birds sing in 
the woodlands, myriads of fish swim in stream and 
ocean, myriads of stars glitter in the nightly sky, 
and every leaf is as perfect in form, every flower as 
beautiful in colors, every living creature fashioned 
with such skill, and every burning star guided 



356 our father's business. 

through space with as much care, as if it engrossed 
the entire attention of God, and there was not 
another but itself within the bounds of His universe. 
The number of objects our hearts can hold, or our 
arms embrace, or our eyes watch, or our fortunes 
enrich, or our bounty pension, is limited ; confined 
within a narrow range, is small at the largest and 
few at the most. It is not so with Him who is 
mighty to save, abundant in goodness and truth. 
The supplies of His grace and mercy are un- 
exhausted and exhaustless. Their type shines in 
that sun which for six thousand years has shed its 
light on seas and continents, on crowded cities and 
lonely solitudes, on burning deserts and fields of 
ice, on palaces and cottages, on ragged beggars 
and sceptred kings, on all countries and classes 
of men, and with fires fed we know not how, shines 
to-day as bright as ever — his eye not dim, nor his 
natural strength abated. And as this is but an 
image, and a faint image, of God, well may His 
servant assure us, there shall be no want to them 
that fear Him. None — neither for the body nor the 
soul : neither for time nor eternity. Let us come 
boldly to the throne of grace. We cannot go to 
Him too often, nor ask of Him too much. We 
have no sin but He has a pardon for it ; no sore, 
but He has salve for it ; no weakness, but He has 
strength for it ; no cankering care, but He has 
relief for it ; no grievous sorrow, but He has 
comfort for it ; no bleeding heart-wound, but He 
has balm to soothe, and a bandage to bind it up. 
It is impossible for us to expect too much from 
His generosity, or trust too implicitly to the 
bounties of His providence and the aids of H?s 



GOD S ABILITY. 357 

Spirit. It is equally easy for God to supply our 
greatest as our smallest wants, to carry our 
heaviest as our lightest burden — just as it is as 
easy for the great ocean to bear on her bosom a 
ship of war with all its guns and crew aboard, as a 
fisherman's boat, or the tiniest craft that floats, 
falling and rising on her swell. In the most des- 
perate cases of sinners, and in the darkest circum- 
stances of saints, " when all power is gone " and 
there seems no outget or deliverance, God is 
mighty to save. Confident in His resources, He 
says, Is anything too hard for Me ? — Prove Me 
herewith, if I will not open the windows of heaven, 
and pour you out a blessing till there is no room 
to contain — Who is he that feareth the Lord and 
obeyeth the voice of his servant, that walketh in 
darkness, and hath no light, let him trust in the 
name of the Lord, and stay himself on his God, 



358 our father's business. 



^j\t tyditbtxti llefoarir. 

RAYS of light, whether they proceed from sun, 
star, or candle, move in perfectly straight lines : 
yet so inferior are our works to God's, that the 
steadiest hand cannot draw a perfectly straight 
line ; nor, with all his skill, has man ever been able 
to invent an instrument capable of doing a thing 
apparently so simple. And it would seem to be as 
impossible for men to keep the even line of truth 
between what appear conflicting doctrines : such 
as the decrees of God and our free will ; such as 
election by grace and the universal offer of the 
gospel ; such as the justifying faith of Paul and the 
justifying works of James. For example, the 
claims of faith, though not wholly denied, have 
been disparaged by some in order to magnify the 
importance of good works : while others, going to 
the opposite extreme, have not sufficiently insisted 
on these- They have not assigned to good works 
their proper place, nor with apostolic earnestness 
urged Christians to be careful to maintain them ; 
lest they should appear to undervalue faith, and 
encourage sinners in the fatal error of trusting, not 
to the righteousness of Christ, but to works of 
righteousness which they themselves have done. 

No such apprehensions should hinder a preacher 
from declaring " the whole counsel of God." Is his 



THE BELIEVER'S REWARD. 359 

topic faith in the righteousness of Jesus Christ as 
the Saviour of the lost, and only Mediator between 
God and man ? Let him fully set forth that 
cardinal doctrine ; abating and qualifying nothing ; 
giving to this grace the prominence it received at 
the lips of Paul, when, to the jailor who had sprung 
into the dungeon, and fallen at his feet, to cry, O 
sirs ! what shall I do to be saved ? he replied, 
Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be 
saved. To no awakened, anxious, alarmed sinner 
have I any other answer. The question admits of 
none other. I would not limit the Holy One of 
Israel, nor venture to say what, in ordinary circum- 
stances, was within, and what without the sphere 
of Divine power ; but, looking at God in the cha- 
racter of a father, and judging of His feelings by 
my own, I cannot believe that He could have saved 
men otherwise than by the sacrifice of His Son. 
We are, as the Bible says, " shut up to Christ." 
So, with reverence be it spoken, in a sense was 
God. Had there been any other way, He would 
surely have chosen it. If He could, He would surely 
have spared His Son. Those who have studied His 
works know that, whether it be to roll a world 
through space, or only sustain an insect on the 
wing, God applies the exact amount of power 
necessary to accomplish His object ; that, and no 
more than that. He wastes nothing ; and if the 
works of creation afford no examples of His un- 
necessarily expending power or skill, how confident 
may we be that, in redeeming us, He did not un- 
necessarily shed the blood of His beloved Son ; 
that by no sacrifice less precious than the life 
which Christ offered up on Calvary could man have 



360 OUR father's business. 

been saved, and righteous vengeance turned from 
our guilty heads. Without allowing the fear of its 
being abused to restrain him, or tone down his 
statements, the preacher is, therefore, to give Christ 
and the faith which receives his righteousness, their 
pre-eminent place. In making Jesus the centre of 
the whole system, in showing that there is no other 
name given under heaven whereby men can be 
saved but His, and how faith, not good works, is 
the way to Christ, and how Christ, not the Church 
or Sacraments, is the way to God, the preacher 
but declares in words what finds its most blest ex- 
pression in the anthems and actions of the upper 
sanctuary. There, every harp is strung to Jesus' 
praise, and saints, descending from their celestial 
thrones, do homage for the crowns they wear by 
casting them at His pierced feet. 

If good works, on the other hand, form the topic 
of discourse, the preacher is to be no less faithful 
in declaring the whole counsel of God respecting 
them. Man is not wiser than God. It is as much 
beyond our skill to improve the Gospel by putting 
things in a better or safer light, as to add beauty 
to a rose or lustre to the noon-day sun. Therefore, 
keeping nothing back, modifying and subtracting 
nothing, but telling the whole truth respecting 
them, we are to give good works the place which 
God himself has given them — no higher, yet no 
lower. And how full of honor and importance 
that place ? — in that, though they do not justify us, 
they form the evidences of our justification ; in 
that, though they do not awaken God's love to 
us, they are the welcome expressions of our love to 
Him ; in that, though they do not, as rendering an 



THE BELIEVER'S REWARD. 361 

atonement for sin, pacify God, they please Him ; in 
that, though wrought by the power of His Spirit, 
and accepted through the merits of His Son, with 
their defects all overlooked for Jesus* sake, they 
shall receive a recompense in the kingdom of 
heaven. 

Whoever, therefore, may be pouring water on a 
sand-bed, running their horses on a rock and 
ploughing there with oxen, beating the air and 
spending their strength for nought, giving their 
money for that which is not bread and their labor 
for that which profiteth not — it is not such as, in 
the words of the apostle, are " careful to maintain 
good works." Engaging in these, we shall reap if 
we faint not. No pain suffered, nor service ren- 
dered, nor work done for Christ, is lost — the very 
shame we bear for Him shall be transformed into 
immortal laurels, and every tear shed like His over 
human sorrow, or hers who bent in penitence at 
His feet, shall be a pearl in the heavenly crown. 
The poorer we become for Christ, we shall grow 
the richer. The more we forget ourselves, the 
more will He remember us. Even a cup of cold 
water given to a disciple in the name of a disciple 
has the promise of a rich reward ; while, of all the 
saints in the kingdom of heaven, they shall shine 
brightest and sing loudest and enter in fullest 
measure into the joys of their Lord, whose life has 
most resembled His. Most blessed they that tread 
the closest on the steps of One who came not to be 
ministered unto, but to minister ; who spent His 
days going about doing good ; and whose life, till 
it closed in a bloody death, amply fulfilled the 
promise of its dawn, of His earliest recorded saying, 



362 OUR father's business. 

of this reply to Mary, " How is it that ye sought 
me ? Wist ye not that I must be about my 
Father's business ?" " I heard a voice from heaven 
saying unto me," says St. John, " Write, Blessed 
are the dead which die in the Lord from hence- 
forth : Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest 
from their labors ; and their works do follow 
them." 

His works often follow a good man in this world 
Let me illustrate this by an example. An 
extensive tract of country in one of our distant 
colonies was occupied many years ago by forests, 
where the traveller found only the scantiest means 
of subsistence. It was inaccessible to all but the 
few savages who roamed its gloomy solitudes. It 
is no longer so. Beautiful and fruit-bearing trees 
now occupy the forest glades, and, providing abund- 
ance of nutritious food, have opened up the country 
to the foot of civilized man, and to its savage tribes 
the blessed influences of the Gospel. It was thus 
the change was brought about, as I have read or 
remember the story. Long years ago, there lived 
there a devout man, one who had left his native 
land, but not, like many others, the profession of 
its religion behind. Animated with love to Christ, 
and an eager desire to save souls, he was wont to 
leave the settlement and penetrate these forests to 
carry the Gospel to their wandering tribes. Ever 
aiming at doing good, nor confining himself, as is 
the habit of some, to one way of doing it, he 
sought, Christlike, to benefit the bodies as well as 
the souls of man. So, on leaving home, he was 
accustomed, beside his Bible, to carry a store of 
the stony seeds of those trees that now bless and 



THE BELIEVER'S REWARD. 363 

beautify the country ; and though, exposed to 
perish of famine or fall by the club of the savage, 
he might never live to sec them blossom, ever and 
anon, as he emerged into a sunny glade, he planted 
a seed, leaving it to the care of God, the dews and 
showers of heaven. And now, though his bones 
have long mouldered into dust, in trees that bear 
beauty in their blossoms and life in their fruit, his 
works, done with prayer to God and from love to 
man, are still following him on earth. While 
others, who lived to enrich themselves and accu- 
mulate fortunes that have sunk amid the wreck of 
time, are forgotten, this good man's memory, like 
these trees, blossoms in perennial beauty. He has 
his name inscribed, not on a mouldering tombstone 
amid emblems of decay, but on the ever-living face 
of nature and on the hearts of grateful generations 
that sit under the shadow of his piety and enjoy its 
fruits. 

Even so by labors accomplished in the spiritual 
field the Christian may live after he is dead. 
Leaving behind them works which shall continue 
for ages to preserve their memory and follow them 
here, many through their good words, though dead, 
are yet speaking ; through their good works, though 
dead, are yet working. There is no good work or 
word, indeed, but contains a germ of immortality, 
and may produce results God only has a mind to 
measure. Like the tiny stream which, small and 
shallow where it leaves its cradle, grows as it goes, 
till, fed by many tributaries, it at length swells 
into a river that, sweeping by the lands of many 
tribes, and bearing the sails of many nations on 
its bosom, like the Amazon or Mississippi, makes 



364 our father's business. 

its floods felt far out from shore — freshening the. 
briny sea, good words have been spoken, and good 
works done that have grown from small beginnings 
into incalculable importance. Living through long 
periods of the world's history, they carry their 
blessed influences far beyond the land of their 
birth, even to the ends of the earth. In proof of 
this let me adduce two remarkable examples, 
namely, Sabbath Schools and the British and 
Foreign Bible Society. 

Many cities claimed to be the birth-place of 
Homer, and, with a still more laudable ambition, 
England and Scotland are rivals for the honor of 
establishing the first Sunday-school. At the period 
of the Rebellion, one of the ministers of Brechin, 
an old cathedral town in Forfarshire, was a Mr. 
Blair, who left the mountain parish of Lochlee, 
where I write this, to fill that charge. He was a 
man who made his mark on the place and people ; 
and though he has been dead a hundred years, 
they still tell stories of him as both a faithful 
minister of the Gospel, and a stout adherent of the 
house of Hanover. Tradition relates how on one 
occasion his courage equally astonished friend and 
foe. On a Sabbath-day, while he was preaching, 
the doors of the church were violently burst open, 
and in marched a body of Prince Charles's men ; 
rebels armed to the teeth with target, claymore, 
dirk, and gun. They ordered Blair to stop. He 
heeded them not, but thundered on. Whereupon, 
to the terror of many and agitation of the whole 
congregation, two officers mounted the pulpit stairs 
and, each laying a pistol on the cushion to enforce 
their orders, again they commanded him to stop. 



THE BELIEVER'S REWARD. 365 

Little disposed to yield obedience to any civil 
authority in the things of God and within His 
house, and least of all to that of rebels in arms for 
a Popish prince, the preacher heard them as if he 
heard them not. He boldly went on with his 
discourse. They might fire away, but he would 
neither yield to their threats, nor own their autho- 
rity. At length the provost, who w T as Blair's 
brother-in-law, dreading that they would shoot him 
dead on the spot, rose from his seat, which was 
opposite the pulpit, and bade him stop. " No," 
replied the intrepid preacher, as with his arms he 
pushed the pistols from the cushion on to the floor, 
"No ; I would not stop though the devil and all 
his angels were here." Whereupon, as the story 
goes, the highlandmen, judging it not well, or 
perhaps safe, to proceed to extremities with a man 
whom they might kill but could not conquer, 
gathered up their pistols, and walked off, leaving 
our hero in quiet possession of the field. This is 
the man to whom I believe those Sunday-schools 
which cover the Christian world like a vast net- 
work, owe their origin. The traveller whose 
curiosity may lead him to visit that old cathedral, 
less for its sake than for the old round tower that 
stands there the graceful monument of an older 
and purer faith than Popery, will find a marble 
tablet on the wall to the memory of Blair, where he 
may read that, "Mr. Blair, about the year 1760, 
instituted a Sabbath evening school, the first it is 
believed that was opened in Scotland? 

But whether Blair or Raikes was first inspired 
with the happy thought, or whether, as has not 
unirequently happened in scientific discoveries, 



366 OUR FATHER'S BUSINESS. 

each, independently of the other, was led to the. 
same result, in the multitudes of children Sunday- 
schools have been the means of saving, in the 
millions they are blessing throughout the Christian 
world, how do the good works of their founders 
follow them here ! Living to the noblest and 
most enduring purposes, they indeed have left 
" their footprints on the sands of time." Seated 
on a throne which was already shaking beneath 
him, with a cloud darkening his royal brow, and 
remorse, like a worm, gnawing at his heart, King 
Solomon gave utterance to this melancholy 
soliloquy, "I made me great works — whatever 
mine eyes desired, I kept not from them — I with- 
held not my heart from any joy. Then I looked 
on all the works that my hands had wrought, and 
on the labor that I had labored to do, and 
behold all was vanity and vexation of spirit. 
There was no profit under the sun !" With other 
feelings the founders of Sunday-schools bend from 
heaven to look on the work of their hands. As 
they look down from their thrones on the millions 
of little children gathered, bright and happy, every 
Sunday, into these schools, and as they listen to 
catch the hymns of their young voices floating up 
through the skies to mingle with the songs of 
angels, and as they see many an opening flower 
bathed with the dews of early grace, and trans- 
planted from these nurseries of a stormy world to 
bloom out in the paradise of God, how, were it 
right to envy any, might the greatest of earth's 
great ones envy them ! Blessed indeed are the 
dead that die in the Lord ; they rest from their 
labors, and their works do follow them ! 



THE BELIEVER'S REWARD. 367 

The British and Foreign Bible Society supplies 
another, and not less remarkable, example. Briefly 
told, this is the story of its origin. A devout Welsh 
minister who was accustomed to converse familiarly 
with his flock, meeting a little girl on a Monday 
morning, asked her to repeat the text of the pre- 
ceding day. She could not ; and, blushing, to his 
surprise laid the blame on the snow that lay in 
heavy wreaths by the hedge-rows and deep on all 
the hills around. It had prevented her, as she 
explained, from going to a distant cottage to which 
she was wont to repair to learn the text from a 
Bible there. This simple incident led to an im- 
portant inquiry. The good man found, to his grief 
and dismay, that many of the families around had 
no copy of the Word of God. As remarkable for 
energy as piety, he set off at once for London to 
get a society formed for the purpose of supplying 
his poor countrymen with the Scriptures. For this 
end he appealed to the directors of the Religious 
Tract Society ; nor in vain. A few of these good 
men, one of them being William Wilberforce, 
quietly assembled in an obscure counting-room in 
one of the densest parts of the city to hear his 
proposal. They agreed to it ; and were about to 
disperse when, like a sunbeam breaking from the 
clouds, and streaming through the dusty panes 
to light up the dingy room, a bright thought 
flashed into the mind of one of them. He rose to 
say what associates that humble counting-room 
with the stable of Bethlehem, and redeeming it 
for ever from obscurity, has made it the honored 
birthplace of a society which, the glory of Britain 
and the world, has sent forth hundreds of millions 



368 OUR FATHER'S BUSINESS. 

of Bibles in hundreds of different tongues : " II 
a Bible society for Wales," he said, " why not a 
Bible Society for the world ?" Brief, but most 
pregnant question ! It sounded on their ears like 
a voice from heaven. It was felt to be the very 
question He would have put, who embraced the 
whole world in His arms, and baptized it with 
His blood. Breathing His spirit, and commending 
itself to theirs, the proposal was at once, and 
cordially, assented to. Recalling more than any 
speech that ever dropped from mortal lips the 
creating fiat, Let there be light, and there was light 
— that blessed question, that brave proposal of 
Christian faith, has chased away the darkness of 
many lands, and illumined with the knowledge 
of saving truths the uttermost parts of the earth. 
This is the greatest speech on record. Though 
dead, he yet speaketh who said it. Nor could any, 
leaving those busy presses that are throwing off 
Bibles by millions in many different tongues, stand 
by his grave without feeling that he who sleeps 
below was distinguished among those of whom it 
can be said, " their works do follow them." It is 
the privilege of few to achieve works of corre- 
sponding magnitude and usefulness. Such honors 
have not all God's saints. One star differeth from 
another star in glory. Yet there is not a humble 
cottager who is training her child for God ; nor 
servant who, with an eye to His glory, bends to the 
meanest work ; nor widow T who, out of her poverty, 
casts her humble offering into His treasury ; nor 
any, in life's obscurest lot, who are trying to do 
good, to help the helpless and relieve distress, to 
heal a wounded heart, to smooth a thorny pillow, 



THE BELIEVER'S REWARD. 369 

to bring a soul to Jesus, to turn a sinner to God, 
to restore a backslider, or to raise the fallen, but is 
engaged in a work that, though it may leave no 
trace on earth, shall follow them through the vale 
of death to receive a recompense of reward. 

His works always follow a good man to heaven. 

Many of our countrymen leave home and, under- 
going a voluntary exile, take their way to India or 
other distant climes. Their object is to make a 
fortune ; and the hope that lures them on, often to 
a life of privations and an early death, is that they 
shall return to pass the evening of their days in the 
enjoyment of ease and affluence. According to 
the store people set on wealth, and show, and 
sumptuous living, and expensive pleasures, will this 
conduct be considered wise or foolish. Men may 
entertain different opinions on that matter, but all, 
with one consent, will pronounce him a fool who, 
after making a fortune abroad, leaves it there, to 
return as poor as he went away ; poorer, indeed, 
with enfeebled health, a shattered constitution, and 
few friends surviving to welcome the wanderer 
back, and cheer his dull old age. Asking for what 
purpose he banished himself, toiled, and wasted 
his prime and manhood, people would pronounce 
such conduct to be arrant folly. Yet thousands 
whom the world esteems wise commit a greater 
folly, nor is there any walk of life but is thronged 
with still greater fools — with thousands who toil 
and struggle, scrape and save, rise up early and lie 
down late and eat the bread of sorrow, to gain 
what only adds to the bitterness of that inevitable 
hour when they must leave all behind. Naked 
man comes from his mother's womb, and stripped 

24 



370 OUR father's business. 

of all his wealth and honors, naked he returns 
thither. What is money to the dead ; or fame ; or 
fulsome eulogies ; or the pomp of a funeral which 
interests all but him whose cold clay it mocks with 
empty honors ? The plaudits of the world wake 
no echoes in the tomb ; nor can all the glittering- 
objects which so many eagerly, and some ex- 
clusively, pursue, either add in the smallest measure 
to the happiness of the saved, or abate in the least 
degree the miseries of the lost. All the grandeur 
and the good things of this world must be left 
behind : and how do they waste life's golden hours 
who spend them in pursuing objects they gain but 
to lose, and possess but for a little to part with for 
ever ! More free of care and sin, much happier, 
and not more foolish, is yonder group of laughing 
children, that build castles of sand within the tide 
mark, or, seated on a sunny bank, crown their fair 
brows with garlands of wild withering flowers. 

The value of all works may be proved by this 
very simple test — will they follow us ? Accom- 
panying us out of this world, will they go with us 
into the next ? That only is of real value to a man 
which he can carry with him. A touchstone that, 
which neither gold, nor houses, nor broad acres, 
nor sounding titles, nor household comforts, can 
stand ! With ruthless hand death strips all alike ; 
nor is it true that one dies poor, and another rich. 
All die equally poor, the results of death being 
as impartial as its pains. It is as hard to expire 
with kings amid silken curtains and on a bed of 
down, as with beggars in a barn on a pallet of 
straw ; and indeed, I have thought that death, with 
its filmy eye, and restless head, and panting breath, 



THE BELIEVERS REWARD. 37 1 

and pinched, pallid face, looked to the full as 
terrible in the gilded halls of nobles as in the 
barest cabins of the poor. " There is one event to 
all," says the wise man ; and the question of true 
importance touching the dead is not the common 
one, What have they left ? — but this, What have 
they carried away ? 

" Blessed are they that do his commandments. 
Witnesses in their favor, though not the price of 
His, their works of faith and love and piety shall 
go up with them to the judgment ; and there they 
shall have the happiness to find that, while God 
has forgiven all their sins — the greatest of them, 
He has forgotten none, even the least of their 
services. He who puts His people's tears into His 
bottle, writes their good works in His book. " A 
book of remembrance," the prophet says, "was 
written before him for them that feared the Lord 
and that thought upon his name ; and they shall 
be mine, saith the Lord of Hosts, on that day 
when I make up my jewels : and I will spare them 
as a man spareth his own son that serveth him." 
Unanswered as some may have appeared, all the 
prayers they ever offered, lost as many seemed to 
be, all the labors they endured, and all the scorn 
they bore, and all the good fights they fought, and 
all the fidelity they showed in the cause of Christ, 
He shall remember and reward. The bread they 
cast on the waters shall return when Jesus, putting 
into their hands a golden harp and on their heads 
a shining crown, bids them welcome to the glory 
of the skies, saying, Well done, good and faithful 
servant, enter thou into the joy of thy Lord ! 

The prospect of this may well raise saints above 



372 OUR father's business. 

the fear of death. The dread of it is instinctive, a 
feeling common to all men — common, as the flight 
of deer before the hounds, the silence of the groves 
when thunder peals or the hawk screams in the 
sky, the efforts of a poor worm to wriggle out of 
our way, show indeed to all living creatures. In 
some, no doubt, this instinct is stronger than in 
others. There have been bad men who could 
calmly confront death, sleeping like a happy child 
the night before their execution, and marching to 
the scaffold with head erect, and cheek unblanched, 
and step firm as his who brushes the dew from 
heather or flowery swardc On the other hand, 
some of God's people, though they had no reason 
to fear the issue, have shrunk from death with 
an unconquerable horror, and under its fear have 
been all their lifetime subject to bondage. Nor do 
such feelings always spring from a dread of the 
pain of dying. It is certain that a man shot 
through the heart or beheaded, dies before he has 
time to feel ; and more certain still that the stroke 
of lightning is instantaneous, and must be painless 
— the victim being dead as a stone before he can 
see the flash which kills him ; yet where the good 
hope through grace is conjoined with a great 
natural horror of death, no demonstration of that 
kind will tranquillize the mind amid the peals and 
flashes of a thunder-storm. Besides this instinctive 
dread, the ordinary accompaniments of death are 
such as, apart from the consolations of the Gospel, 
cast dismal shadows on the valley sin dooms all to 
travel. Pain is a feature common both to birth 
and death. It is with groans we leave a world that 
we enter with a cry : nor has it any sounds sc 



THE BELIEVER'S REWARD. 



5/3 



terrible as a man's last gasping breaths, or sight 
so appalling as his struggles in the arms of death. 
And even when the curtain falls on the awful 
scene, and silence succeeds to groans ; and the 
restless form lies in repose, and the expression of 
pain has passed from the pale placid face, and all 
is over, how do our hearts recoil from that grave 
amid whose darkness and corruption loved ones, 
whose voices we shall no more hear and whose 
faces we shall no more see, are mouldering into 
dust ? This skeleton form, the dread messenger 
whom sin has armed with a dart and the great God 
sends to summon mortals to his judgment-bar, is 
indeed the King of Terrors. 

Does a believer, or rather should a believer, then 
fear to die ? Paul answers the question. See him 
there, as, longing to depart, he stretches out his 
wings to go, esteeming it better to be absent 
from the body and present with the Lord ; or on 
yonder battle-field, where, with his foot on oui 
last enemy and triumph in his tones, he bends 
down to taunt and to defy him, saying, O death, 
where is thy sting ? Thanks be to God, who 
giveth me the victory through my Lord Jesus 
Christ ! 

Fear to die ? The Apostle knew in whom he 
had believed. He was persuaded that neither 
death nor life, nor things present nor things to 
come, should be able to separate him from the love 
of God which was through Jesus Christ. He had a 
full assurance that the blessed Master whom he 
had lived, and was about to die, to serve, would 
receive him to His glorious rest. Never bond-slave 
longed for emancipation, or pining captive for 



374 °UR father's business. 

green fields and home, or soldier weary of w&r for 
his discharge, or weather-beaten mariner, as he lay 
on the helm battling with rude seas and roaring 
tempests, for a quiet harbor, more than Paul for 
death ; to depart and be with Jesus. And since it 
is at death the servant, having ended his task, 
receives his wages ; the soldier, having closed his 
battles, obtains the crown ; the pilgrim, having 
finished his journey, is welcomed to his Father's 
house, and enters into rest : how much more 
common were the hopes and peace and triumph of 
Paul, did Christians labor more diligently to 
make their calling and election sure. Many more 
might die offering in the manner of their death the 
greatest sermon that was ever preached, the 
grandest spectacle that can be seen on earth. 
Peace enjoyed amid such terrors and distractions 
is a spectacle to turn aside the steps of Moses. 
Here is a bush burning, yet not consumed. It was 
a sight worth seeing, when the young shepherd 
stood by the giant's vast form, with his foot 
planted on his neck, and mothers and maidens, 
conducting him from the field of a glorious victory, 
sang his praises to the timbrel and the dance ; but 
it is a spectacle more glorious still to see a dying 
saint treading death and the devil beneath his feet, 
in the sublime power of faith conquering all mortal 
and guilty fears, calmly awaiting the hour of de- 
parture, comforting the mourners who weep around 
his bed, and with a placid smile bidding the world 
adieu. Amid such scenes faith achieves her 
grandest triumphs. There, the infidel has felt 
compelled to do her homage ; and has been heard 
to say, on leaving the field of such a victory, May 



THE BELIEVER'S REWARD. 375 

I die the death of the righteous, and may my last 
end be like his ! 

Fear to die ? There is enough in the prospects 
which faith opens up to raise a man out of himself, 
and render him insensible alike to the feeling of 
pain and the fears of death. Even those feelings 
which are commonly feeble may, being roused, 
undergo such change and acquire such power as a 
mountain brook, that, ordinarily murmuring along 
its stony channel of little pools and tiny waterfalls, 
when thunders shake the heavens and roll among 
the hills, swells into a torrent which, dashing, 
roaring, foaming along its rugged course, sweeps 
everything before it. Look, for example, at the 
bird to whose protecting wings our Lord compares 
His own fond kindness ! See how bravely, though 
by nature timid, she defends her helpless brood, 
and ruffles her feathers to spring in the face of man 
or beast. The maternal affection, roused by a 
sense of danger, takes entire possession of her 
heart, and imparts to it the courage of a lion. 
Even the love of science — a passion, if as pure, 
commonly as cold as a wintry sky — has over- 
mastered the fears of death. Archimedes calmly 
pursued his studies in Syracuse amid the uproar of 
the assault ; nor when a soldier, with murderous 
weapon and intent, burst into his apartment, asked 
other favor at his hand but a few more minutes to 
finish the problem he was engaged in solving. 
Even less noble and exalted passions may become 
equally absorbing. A Roman army once fought 
with such enthusiasm as to be insensible to an 
earthquake that rocked the ground beneath their 
feet ; and I knew a soldier who, with the foe before 



376 OUR father's business. 

him and comrades falling at his side was raised so 
much above the sense of pain as never to discover 
that a ball from the French had shattered his 
wrist, till he found himself unable to fire off the 
musket he had levelled at their ranks. 

No wonder, therefore, that the prospects of dying 
saints should sometimes lift them above them- 
selves. A clear eye and a cloudless sky, his home 
full in view, heaven at hand, through the gate that 
opens to receive him Jesus seen amid the glories of 
His Father's throne with a crown ready to place on 
His servant's brows, these are sufficient to account 
for the comfort and courage with which many have 
not merely met, but welcomed their dying day — to 
account, without calling in miraculous agency, for 
what we read in old books, how some, going to 
martydom with dauntless mien and face radiant 
as on a marriage day, have felt no pain at the 
burning stake, and sung out their life amid the 
roar of fire. Let a dying man enjoy a clear view 
of his interest in Christ, and an unclouded prospect 
of the rest and reward that remaineth for His 
people, and the last should be the happiest hours 
of his life. Of such a life it may well be said, " the 
end is better than the beginning. " Thus one of 
our Scottish martyrs, standing on the ladder from 
which they were to throw him off, assured the 
weeping spectators that he had never gone up to 
his pulpit to preach with so little fear as he had 
mounted that ladder to die — to him it was a perch 
from which his spirit, wearied of a world full of sin 
and sorrows, was spreading out its joyful wings for 
the flight to heaven. Another, addressing his weep- 
ing mother and sisters, who had entered his cell 



THE BELIEVER'S REWARD. 377 

for a last visit on the morning of his execution, said, 
" Let us be glad and rejoice, for the marriage of 
the Lamb is come, and his wife hath made herself 
ready. Could I have ever thought that the fear of 
suffering and death could be so taken from me ? 
Lord !" he exclaimed, " Thou hast brought me 
within two hours of eternity, and this is no matter 
of terror to me more than if I rose to go to lie 
down on a bed of roses : now that I am so near 
the end of time, I desire to bless the Lord : death 
is to me as a bed to the weary ! Yonder," he re- 
marked on hearing the drums beat for his execution, 
" yonder is my welcome call to the marriage. The 
Bridegroom is coming. I am ready !" Assured, as 
he said, by God of his salvation, with these sublime 
words he left the world to pass within the veil — 
" Farewell, beloved fellow-sufferers and followers of 
the Lamb. Farewell, night-wanderings for Christ 
and all sublunary things. Farewell, conflicts with 
a body of sin and death. Welcome, scaffold, for 
precious Christ. Welcome, heavenly Jerusalem. 
Welcome, innumerable company of angels. Wel- 
come, crown of glory. Welcome, above all, thou 
blessed Trinity and one God. O Eternal One, I 
commit my soul unto thy eternal rest." What a 
glorious sunset of a stormy day ! What a com- 
mentary that scene on these grand words of Paul — 
" Death is swallowed up in victory. O 
death, where is thy sting ? o grave, where 
is thy victory ? the sting of death is sin : 
and the strength of sin is the law. but 
thanks be to god, which giveth us the 
victory through our lord jesus christ. 
Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye 



378 our father's business. 

steadfast, immovable, always abounding iis 
the work of the lord, forasmuch as ye 
know that your labor is not in vain in the 

LORD." 



GOOD WORKS. 379 



THOSE bodies of ours which the Psalmist pro- 
nounces, and science the more they are studied 
the more clearly proves, to be fearfully and won- 
derfully made, God has furnished with many 
different organs. Among them all, there is none 
useless, or to be dispensed with. Each has its own 
peculiar and also important office — on the due per- 
formance of which our health depends in all cases, 
and in some our life. Let any of them cease to 
discharge, or but imperfectly discharge, its func- 
tions, and in course of time, not it only, but the 
whole body suffers. For, though functional are 
less alarming than organic affections, the irregular 
action of any organ is apt to run into disease ; and 
disease after a longer or shorter period of suffering, 
to terminate in general disorder ; and that at 
length in death. Such is the perfect harmony 
between the different parts of our frame that they 
all sympathize with, and, for pleasure, health, and 
even life itself, are mutually dependent on each 
other. A somewhat similar dependence charac- 
terizes all the true members of Christ's body — His 
Church, by whatever name they go, to whatever 
class or order they belong. An important fact that ! 
— nor could anything better prove the high import- 
ance which St. Paul attaches to it, than the 



jSO OUR FATHER'S BUSINESS. 

striking manner in which he thus insists on, and 
expands it : " By one Spirit," he says, " are we all 
baptized into one body, whether we be Jews or 
Gentiles, whether we be bond or free ; and have 
been all made to drink into one Spirit. ... If the 
foot shall say, Because I am not the hand, I am 
not of the body ; is it, therefore, not of the body ? 
And if the ear shall say, Because I am not the eye, 
I am not of the body ; is it, therefore, not of the 
body ? If the whole body were an eye, where 
were the hearing ? if the whole were hearing, 
where were the smelling ? .... If they were all 
one member, where were the body ? But now are 
they many members, yet but one body ! And the 
eye cannot say unto the hand, I have no need of 
thee ; nor again the head to the feet, I have 
no need of you. . . . Whether one member suffer, 
all the members suffer with it ; or one member be 
honored, all the members rejoice with it. Ye are 
the body of Christ, and members in particular." 

This beautifully drawn analogy between the 
members of Christ's body and those of our material 
frame teaches many lessons ; and among these, not 
the least important is this, that we become mem- 
bers of His body not for ornament merely, nor even 
for our salvation and enjoyment only, but also for 
work. Activity is the universal characteristic of 
all life, human and Divine. God himself offers no 
exception to this rule : " My Father worketh 
hitherto," says Jesus, " and I work :" nor on the 
other hand, does it find an exception even in those 
animals or plants that stand lowest in the scale of 
Creation. But take an example from our own 
bodies. In what respect are they encumbered with 



GOOD WORKS. 381 

useless or idle members ? The hands are formed 
to work, the feet to walk, the eyes to look, the ears 
to listen, the tongue to taste, the teeth to grind 
and the digestive organs to extract nourishment 
from our food, the lungs to breathe, the brain to 
feel and think, and the heart — the first to live and 
last to die, and greatest worker of all — to beat by 
night and day without a pause ; supplying the 
waste of every organ, and sending its tide of blood 
to the extremities of the body. And, as in camp, 
followers, or armor, or baggage, what does not 
promote impairs the efficiency of an army ; as in a 
household those who do not help hinder work, if 
the body through accident or monstrous birth has 
a limb that is of no service, it is considered an in- 
cumbrance rather than an advantage. Regarded 
as a deformity, not an ornament, it is removed ; 
when the operation can be safely performed, it is 
condemned to the surgeon's knife. So is it with 
Christ's body — that Church of the living God which 
He has purchased with His blood. By whatever 
hands they were baptized, to whatever Communion 
they professedly belong, let none fancy that they 
belong to Christ, unless they are found working in 
His service. For them to talk of being saved by 
faith is to dishonor the Gospel, and to deceive 
themselves. Faith without works, as James plainly 
tells us, is dead ; and like all dead things, is an 
offence. 

Yet, if there is need to warn some against 
trusting to their own works for salvation or fixing 
their hopes on any but the Lamb of God, which 
taketh away the sins of the world, there is probably 
as much need to warn others against a more 



382 OUR father's business. 

pleasant but equally fatal error — this, namely, that 
they can be true without being working Christians. 
There is a sloth and self-indulgence which, divorc- 
ing what God hath joined together — faith and 
works, peace and penitence, the spirit and the 
enjoyment of heaven — trusts to be saved without 
an effort ; to receive the reward without undergoing 
the labor, the crown without bearing the cross. 
If words have any meaning, how plainly opposed 
to this delusion these weighty exhortations ! — 
labor for the bread that never perisheth ; give all 
diligence to make your calling and election sure ; 
work out your salvation with fear and trembling ; 
pray without ceasing ; watch unto prayer ; be 
instant in season and out of season ; work while it 
is called to-day, for the night cometh when no 
man can work ; the kingdom of heaven suffereth 
violence, and the violent take it by force ; if any 
man will be my disciple let him take up his cross, 
deny himself daily, and follow me ; if thy right 
hand offend thee, cut it off and cast it from thee, 
for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members 
should perish and not that thy whole body should 
be cast into hell ; and if thy right eye offend thee, 
pluck it out and cast it from thee, for it is profitable 
for thee that one of thy members should perish 
and not that thy whole body should be cast into 
hell. Liars, thieves, drunkards, adulterers, mur- 
derers, the vilest of impenitent sinners are not 
more certain to be lost than those decent persons 
who do nothing for Christ, flattering themselves 
that a worthless and a workless faith shall save 
them. Their peace is false ; and one could fancy 
that the prophet had them, and the day that shall 



GOOD WORKS. 383 

judge us all not by our professions but perform- 
ances, in his eye, when he says : " Because they 
have seduced my people, saying, Peace, and there 
was no peace ; and one built up a wall, and, lo, 
others daubed it with untempered mortar : say 
unto them which daub it with untempered mortar, 
that it shall fall. . . . Thus saith the Lord God * 
I will even rend it with a stormy wind in my fury ; 
and there shall be an overflowing shower in mine 
anger, and great hailstones in my fury to consume 
it. . . . Thus will I accomplish my wrath upon the 
wall, and upon them that have daubed it with 
untempered mortar, and will say unto you, The 
wall is no more, neither they that daubed it." 
Alas ! deeming it an easy thing to gain heaven, 
they shall be buried in the ruin of hopes it was folly 
ever to entertain, and shall then be too late to 
amend. The night has come when no man can 
work. From a fate so sad, yet so certain, if, living 
for enjoyment rather than employment we neglect 
the arduous duties of this great salvation, may the 
good Lord deliver us ! 

It. is impossible to set too high a value on the 
blood of Christ. It cleanseth from all sin, and 
it only cleanseth from any. Washed in it the 
greatest sinner shall be saved ; without it, the 
least of sinners must be lost. To a poor guilty 
man, suffering the stings of conscience and stand- 
ing in terror of death and the judgment, it is better 
than gold, yea, than much fine gold ; the pearl of 
great price, which he would sell all, and, were he 
possessed of a thousand worlds, would part with 
them all to buy.. It is equally impossible, on 
the other hand, to undervalue the worth of our 



384 our father's business. 

own works. Till we are reconciled to God, anc^ 
born again through His Spirit, have become new 
creatures in Jesus Christ, we are His enemies. 
Our works do not spring from love to Him, and 
therefore cannot have any value in His eyes. And 
how imperfect are even the best works of the best 
saints ! There is foulness enough in the purest 
heart, and, in respect of their motives, manner, 
and object, sin enough in our best actions, — those 
whereby we do most good and earn most com- 
mendation, to condemn us. To speak of us not in 
our worst but best state, not of the sins we commit, 
but of the best services we render, our wine has 
its water and our silver has its dross. And so, 
abandoning every hope of acceptance with a holy 
God through our own merits, let us cling to 
the cross of Christ, as a drowning man to the 
plank that, embraced in his arms, floats him to 
the shore ; the language of our faith an echo 
of His who breathed out His life with these 
words on His lips, None but Christ, none but 
Christ ! 

Still, I question whether good works are held 
in sufficient value by many whom notwithstanding 
we must regard as sincere Christians — a state of 
mind theirs that cannot be approved, and yet 
can without much difficulty be accounted for. 
Whoever reflects on the spherical form of the 
earth will perceive that a traveller going east may 
continue his journey in that direction till, passing 
round half the globe, he is on the west of us. 
He has, in fact, by advancing very far on one 
and the same line, exactly reversed his position. 
And just as a man, if he goes very far east, gets 



GOOD WORKS 385 

into the west, so there is always a danger lest, 
in our anxiety to avoid one error, we go so far 
in the opposite direction as to fall into another. 
Almost all religious, to say nothing of other con- 
troversies, illustrate this fact. The longer they 
rage, the fiercer grow the passions which they 
kindle, and the more extreme the positions which 
the combatants, carried away by their feelings, are 
apt to assume, 

For example, the Reformation in Scotland, which, 
in contradistinction to that of England, was op- 
posed by the whole power of the crown and owed 
little to the nobles, was, under God and the few 
distinguished leaders He raised for the occasion, 
a popular movement. The people had a hard fight 
of it, and the people fought it well. They 
made, to use one of their own favorite expressions, 
" root and branch " work of the demolition of 
Popery. Still, this Reformation presented to some 
degree an example of the tendency that men show 
to pass from one extreme to another, especially 
when borne along on the crest of a popular wave. 
This cannot fairly be denied, I think ; and will be 
denied by none but those who admire our Re- 
formers well, but not wisely ; who seem to claim 
for them an infallibility which they denied to the 
Pope, nor ever thought of claiming for themselves. 
However justifiable and commendable such move- 
ments may be, they commonly present, with its 
resistless power, more or less of the violence of a 
river which, swollen high with rains, not only 
clears its channel of the impediments that obstruct 
its progress, but also in various places undermines 
its own banks, and hurls away in its impetuous, red 



386 OUR father's business. 

roaring flood the soil that fertilizes, and the trees 
that adorn them. 

I will yield to no man in a high and just ad- 
miration of the principles, the piety, the energy, 
the sagacity, and the heroic courage of the Scottish 
Reformers. Events have justified almost every- 
thing for which they were once condemned. Yet 
I cannot but think that in their devout abhorrence 
of a sensuous and formal religion, they somewhat 
overlooked the aid a spiritual worship may receive 
from forms, if these are in harmony with a devout 
mind and the apostolic rule, " Let all things be 
done decently and in order." We sympathize with 
the zeal with which they stripped the Church of 
meretricious ornaments ; but they might have sub- 
stituted for the gorgeous vestments and heathenish 
trappings of Popery what would have seemed in 
some respects a less scanty and mean attire. 
There is no sin in beauty, nor holiness in ugliness. 
God adorns all His works, painting even the flowers 
of the field, and bathing their leaves in delicious 
fragrance. And why then need it have been 
thought almost a sin to introduce music into His 
service that gratified the ear, or meet for His 
worship but within the cold bare walls of a mean 
and naked edifice ? Many things, indeed, have 
been unjustly laid to the charge of our fathers. 
Knox and his coadjutors were not the rude, un- 
cultivated men their enemies represented them, 
and some, giving too ready credence to Popish 
lies, believed them to have been. It is not to 
cast blame on them, but to illustrate our proneness 
to pass to extremes, that I have touched a small 
fault — one it is easy to extenuate, For what 



GOOD WORKS. 387 

surgeon so skilful as to remove a monstrous excre- 
scence without his knife taking some flesh along 
with it ? or what vast tree, the growth of centuries, 
was ever uprooted but it injured the green-sward, 
and tore up some good soil in the meshes of its 
gigantic roots ? 

Our tendenc} 7 - to run into extremes finds no 
less striking and more sad illustrations in the 
doctrinal positions which good men have allowed 
themselves to be driven into by the violence of 
controversy and the natural recoil from error. 
In their zeal to put down one error they have 
often fallen into another — to use Archbishop 
Whately's favorite adage, going too far east, 
they have gone into the west. Of this we have a 
remarkable example in the positions in which 
Wesley and Toplady were found at the end of 
their controversy. Eminently good men, whose 
names are still fragrant and whose praise is in 
all the churches, at the commencement of their 
controversy the first appeared as the champion 
of a moderate Arminianism, the second of a mod- 
erate Calvinism. But ere that unhappy war 
had spent its vehemence, Wesley in his recoil 
from Toplady's Calvinism, and the other in his 
recoil from Wesley's Arminianism, had each taken 
up positions, and ventured on statements, which in 
their calmer moments neither of them would have 
approved or defended. 

If traced to its source, the secondary place 
given to good works by many, and even by some 
good and sincere Christians in their creed, if not 
in their conduct, will also be found, I think, to 
arise from our proneness to pass from one extreme 



388 OUR father's business. 

to another. The Church of Rome taught her 
people to recommend themselves to the favor 
of God by good works, as she calls them — fastings 
and watchings, gifts of charity to the poor and 
of piety to the church, lives of voluntary poverty, 
and various acts of painful penance. Her Sus- 
tentation Fund is the doctrine of purgatory : and, 
notwithstanding the ostentatious parade she makes 
of cross and crucifix, her principle, to all practical 
intents and purposes, is salvation by works. This 
appears in every country where, removed from 
the restraining influences of Protestantism, her 
character, like a plant growing in its native soil, 
is fully developed. There only, Popery is seen 
aright ; as is the lion in the desert he shakes with 
his cruel roar, or the tiger in the Indian jungles 
through which, crashing like a bolt, she makes her 
fatal spring : not in those menageries where, 
confined within iron bars and subdued by hunger, 
these savage beasts, but occasionally growling, 
quietly pace their narrow bounds, and cower be- 
neath the keeper's eye. 

For example, in a cathedral, far south in Italy, 
I saw a man working out his " salvation with fear 
and trembling." It was done under the eye of 
his priests ; but in a manner hardly less offensive, 
I suppose, to Him who is to be worshipped in 
spirit and in truth than the pagan rites of those 
temples whose graceful ruins stood near by, on 
the shores of the blue Mediterranean and under 
the shadow of the snow-crowned Apennines. It 
was morning mass ! and with only its loftiest 
windows touched by the beams of the rising sun, 
the cathedral of Salerno was filled with a solemn 



GOOD WORKS. 38g 

gloom — a dim, religious light. With an attention 
to their religious duties that might put many 
Protestants to the blush, domestic servants leav- 
ing the family a-bed, and humble laborers on their 
way to field or workshop, were there — praying, 
with their eyes turned on a crucifix, or more 
probably on their knees either before an image 
of the Virgin, or the shrine that held the moulder- 
ing relics of their patron saint. Arrayed in gorge- 
ous robes, muttering prayers, like incantations, 
in an unknown tongue, and attended by boys with 
smoking censers and tinkling bells, some priests 
were already officiating at the altars ; while others, 
carrying the Host — the true body of our Lord, 
as they say — were passing with grave and solemn 
pomp across the marble floor to begin their 
services for the living or the offices of the dead. 
But from all this mummery and imposing array, 
my attention was turned on an object that filled 
me with mingled feelings of indignation, pity, and 
astonishment. An old man, bent under the weight 
of years, entered. Having dipped his finger in 
the holy water by the door, and crossed himself 
with trembling hand in the name of Father, Son, 
and Holy Ghost, he advanced with a slow and 
tottering step to the centre of the church. There, 
under the eye of passing and approving, or careless 
and indifferent priests, he cast himself on the 
floor. Prostrate on his hands and knees, he bowed 
till his lips kissed, and his forehead touched the 
pavement. A posture his of deepest reverence ; 
and yet but the prelude of an act painful to see 
and more painful to reflect on, as a degrading 
and soul-destroying superstition. In this prostrate 



390 OUR father's business, 

posture he protruded his tongue ; and, with his 
long grey locks sweeping the dirty floor, crawled 
forward on hands and knees ; and, as he crawled, 
with bleeding tongue he licked the marble pave- 
ment, till he had drawn among its dust a large, 
long figure of the cross. Thus, poor, pitiable, 
ignorant devotee, he was taught to earn the par- 
don of his sins ! If he had ever heard, how did he 
misunderstand these grand words, " God forbid 
that I should glory save in the Cross of our Lord 
Jesus Christ, by whom the world is crucified unto 
me, and I unto the world !" But thus, by prayers 
and penances, by fasts and vigils, and some things, 
otherwise commendable, which Popery calls good 
works, she teaches, and has always taught, that 
men may earn the mercy of God and purchase a 
right to heaven. 

By putting them in the place of Christ, His 
righteousness, and saving work, Popery brought 
good works into bad odor — into such disrepute, 
indeed, that even Martin Luther, because St. 
James highly commended them, rejected his epistle 
from the canon of inspired Scripture. In their 
recoil from her errors, men appeared at the period 
of the Reformation who burst asunder the bounds 
of all morality. Denouncing the doctrine of good 
works as a delusion of Satan and an encroachment 
on the freedom wherewith Christ makes His people 
free, they openly indulged in the grossest vices ; 
saying, that with their " life hid with Christ in 
God," these polluted them no more than the 
gutter does the kernel inside the nut which falls 
into it. Nor has Rome only taught that salvation 
is more of works than of faith. Last century 



GOOD WORKS. 391 

saw a sad eclipse of sound doctrine in almost 
all Protestant churches. Their pulpits were occu- 
pied by men who, ignorant of the truth, or ashamed 
to own their Lord and to defend His cause, dis- 
coursed a cold morality ; fed the people with 
empty husks ; and putting good works, as they 
called them, in the place of the cross, held up 
heathen virtues rather than Christ and Christian 
graces to admiration. And under that law of 
action and reaction which makes the human mind, 
as well as a pendulum, swing from one extreme 
to the opposite, the result was what might have 
been expected. From being over-valued, good 
works came to be under-valued ; theirs the fate of 
the brazen serpent, which, from being an object 
of idolatry, was treated with a measure of con- 
tempt — ground to powder, and called Nehushtan, 
or a piece of brass. I cannot otherwise explain 
the carelessness which many display about Chris- 
tian works, and the hopes they entertain of getting 
to heaven without having ever given such proofs of 
conversion as they afford. Nor can I otherwise 
account for the positive aversion which some good 
people show, not certainly to doing, but to hearing 
of good works. So morbid is this feeling, that 
they would suspect the orthodoxy of the preacher 
who assigned them a prominent place in his 
sermons. St. Paul says, " Be ye followers of me ;" 
but would they venture, lest they should puff 
up any, or encourage them to trust in their own 
merits, to follow him in the style in which he 
closes his epistle to the Romans ? Bold and 
generous man, he commends Phebe by name 
and others also for their works ; in anticipation 



392 our father's business. 

of Christ's own " Well done," he applauds theii 
services, and, recording their names in the im* 
perishable pages of the Bible, crowns them with 
immortal honor. 

It is told, for example, of an eminent saint, how, 
on one who sat by his dying bed delicately alluding 
to important services which he had rendered to the 
cause of religion, he started — started as if he had 
heard a serpent hiss ; and turning round with an 
expression of pain and horror on his face, besought 
his friend, as he loved him, to make no mention of 
his poor unworthy works. And I have seen it 
recorded to the praise of another, as indicating the 
healthiest and holiest state a man could live or die 
in, that to those who spoke of his good works, he 
instantly replied, " I take my good and bad works, 
and casting them into one heap, fly from both to 
Christ !" Now, though seeing in our best works 
much to make us blush, and nothing whatever, 
since it is by grace we are what we are, to make us 
vain, I venture to say that good works, by which I 
mean, works done for the glory of the Father, from 
love to the Son, and by the aid of the Holy Spirit, 
deserve a more respectful treatment. It is the 
exaggeration of a right feeling, and a false humility 
which casts them into the same heap with our sins. 
Our trust for pardon and acceptance should rest 
entirely in the blood of Christ ; yet the works 
which have pleased our heavenly Father and pro- 
fited our fellow-creatures, are to be recalled with 
thankfulness on a dying bed. Fruits of the Spirit, 
which glorify not us, but Him through whose grace 
they have been wrought, they are clear and com- 
fortable evidence of our being the children of God, 



good works. 393 

It was not thus, as some have done*, that Paul 
spoke of good works. It may be news to many, 
yet it is true, that he applies the same lofty terms 
to them which he uses to proclaim and enforce 
salvation by the blood of Christ. To Timothy he 
says, " This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all 
acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world 
to save sinners ;" and to Titus he says, employing 
not an equivalent but the identical expression, 
" This is a faithful saying, and these things I will 
that thou affirm constantly, that they which have 
believed in God might be careful to maintain good 
works." On death-beds, on the deck, wherever 
loved ones tear themselves from each other's arms, 
at all partings, the last are not the least important 
words ; and it is with exhortations to good works 
that Paul takes farewell of the church of Philippi. 
" Finally, brethren," he says, " whatsoever things? 
are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever 
things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatso- 
ever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of 
good report : if there be any virtue, and if there be 
any praise, think on these things." Elsewhere, 
placing good works on a yet loftier platform, in 
language the strongest possible according them yet 
higher honors, he says, " God is not unrighteous 
to forget our work and labor of love showed 
toward his name :" and, after that, it were surely 
no presumption to say that it cannot be wrong for 
us modestly to remember what God will not 
forget : and further still, that it cannot be right for 
us to be careless of such works as this great 
preacher of faith says are ordained of God, and 
bids us be careful to maintain. 



394 our father's business. 

Who ponders the Apostle's words aright, and 
forms a proper estimate of their importance, will be 
less surprised than some, no doubt, are at the 
manner in which Nehemiah mentions his good 
works in his prayers. Addressing God, he speaks 
of them in a way which many good men never 
ventured on. When counselled to fly, he spurned 
the coward advice : and asking, Shall such a man 
as I flee ? against the enemies of his God, his faith, 
his country, and his countrymen — 

stood like an iron pillar strong 
And steadfast as a wall of brass. 

But some who admire the boldness with which, 
amid a crowd of enemies, he faces man, may think 
his bearing before God over bold ; and that he 
trode the borders of presumption — when, relating 
his pious and patriotic deeds, he addresses Jehovah, 
saying, " Wipe not out my good deeds that I have 
done for the house of my God, and for the offices 
thereof!" Did such a thought occur to them when 
engaged in prayer, many would strangle it in their 
hearts — regarding it as a suggestion of the devil ; 
a temptation to be resisted, if not a sin to be 
mourned ; as only suited to the lips of one who 
distributed his alms to the sound of a trumpet, and 
prayed in corners of the street that he might be 
praised of men, and said, expressing the sentiments 
of a heart inflated with pride, I thank thee, O God, 
that I am not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, 
adulterers, or even as this publican ! Yet when 
Nehemiah prayed, " Remember me, O God, con- 
cerning this," he only asked him to remember what 
Paul assures us God is not so unrighteous as to 



GOOD WORKS. 395 

forget. He was no proud, self-righteous Pharisee, 
A most devout, humble, and holy man, he con- 
fessed his own and his people's sins — praying, 
fasting, weeping, and, while he asks his good works 
to be remembered, throwing himself at God's feet 
t<? cry, Spare me according to the greatness of Thy 
mercy ! What a fine example of a true Christian 
— the humble believer yet the diligent worker ! 

The truth is, that to set little store on good 
works is an immoral and most pestilent heresy. 
The works by which we recommend religion and 
adorn the doctrine of God our Saviour, the works 
which spring from love to Christ and aim at the 
glory of God, the works by which a good man 
blesses society and leaves the world better than he 
found it, are not the " filthy ra^s" of Holy Scrip- 
ture. No fikliy rags, but vhe gracious and graceful 
ornaments of a blood-bought Church ; these, on 
the contrary, are the " gold of Ophir," " the raiment 
of needle-work" in which His bride, apparelled as 
a queen, stands at her Lord's right-'hand — a lovely 
form, in a blaze of beauty and of jewels. 



itik A HGRLS' HONG 



THE ANGELS' SONG. 



PART I. 

The birth of an heir to the throne is usually 
accompanied by circumstances befitting so great 
an event. No place is deemed worthy of it but 
a royal palace ; and there, at the approach of 
the expected hour, high nobles and the great 
officers of state assemble, while the whole country, 
big with hope, waits to welcome a successor to its 
long line of kings. Cannons announce the event ; 
seaward, landward, guns flash and roar from float- 
ing batteries and rocky battlements ; bonfires 
blaze on hill-tops ; steeples ring out the news in 
merry peals ; the nation holds holiday, giving itself 
up to banqueting and enjoyments, while public 
prayers and thanksgivings rise to Him by whom 
kings reign and princes decree justice. With such 
pomp and parade do the heirs of earthly thrones 
enter on the stage of life ! So came not He who 
is the King of kings and Lord of lords. On the 
eve of His birth the world went on its usual round. 
None were moved for His coming ; nor was there 
any preparation for the event — a chamber or any- 
thing else. No fruit of unhallowed love, no house- 
less beggar's child enters life more obscurely than 



400 THE ANGELS' SONG. 

the Son of God. The very tokens by which the 
shepherds were taught to recognize Him were not 
the majesty but the extreme meanness of his con- 
dition : " This shall be a sign unto you ; Ye shall 
find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying 
in a manger." In fact, the Lord of heaven was to 
be recognized by his humiliation, as its heirs are by 
their humility. Yet, as we have seen a black and 
lowering cloud have its edges touched with living 
gold by the sun behind it, so all the darkest scenes 
of our Lord's life appear more or less irradiated 
with the splendors of a strange glory. Take that 
night on Galilee when a storm roared over land 
and lake, enough to wake all but the dead. The 
boat with Jesus and His disciples tears through the 
waves, now whirling on their foaming crests, now 
plunging into their yawning hollows ; the winds 
rave in His ear ; the spray falls in cold showers on 
His naked face ; but He sleeps. I have read of a 
soldier boy who was found buried in sleep beneath 
his gun, amid the cries and carnage of the battle ; 
and the powers of nature in our Lord seem to be 
equally exhausted. His strength is spent with 
toil ; and with wan face and wasted form He lies 
stretched out on some rude boards — the picture of 
one whose candle is burning away all too fast, and 
whom excess of zeal is hurrying into premature old 
age and an untimely grave. Was the sight such as 
to suggest the question, Where is now thy God ? — 
how soon it changed into a scene of magnificence 
and omnipotent power ! He wakes — as a mother, 
whom louder sounds would not stir, to her infant's 
feeblest wail, He wakes to the cry of His alarmed 
disciples ; and standing up, with the lightning 



THE ANGELS' SONG. 401 

flash illumining His calm, divine face, He looks out 
on the terrific war of elements. He speaks ; and 
all is hushed. Obedient to His will, the winds 
fold their wings, the waves sink to rest ; and there 
is a great calm. " Glory to God in the highest !" 
How may His people catch up and continue the 
strain which falls from angels' lips ? In disciples 
plucked from the very jaws of death, and pulling 
their boat shoreward with strong hands and happy 
hearts over a moonlit glassy sea, Jesus shows us 
how He will make good these sayings, " Fear not, 
for I am with thee ; be not afraid, for I am thy 
God " — " I have given unto them eternal life, and 
they shall never perish." 

The divine glory of that scene is not peculiar to 
it. For as an eagle, so soon as she has stooped 
from her realm to the ground, mounts aloft again, 
soaring into the blue skies of her native heavens, 
our Lord never descends into the abasement of 
His meanest circumstances without some act which 
bespeaks divinity, and bears Him up before our 
eyes into the regions of Godhead. The grave, 
where He weeps like a woman, gives up its prisoner 
at His word. Athirst by Jacob's well, like any 
other wayfaring, way-worn traveller, He begs a 
draught of water from a woman there, but tells her 
all she ever did. Houseless and poor, His banquet 
hall is the open air, His table the green grass, His 
feast five barley loaves and a few fishes from the 
neighboring lake, yet this scanty fare supplies the 
wants of five thousand guests. His birth and life 
and death, His whole history, in fact, resembles 
one of those treasure-chests which double locks 
secure ; for as that iron safe yields its hoards of 

26 



402 THE ANGELS' SONG. 

gold, silver, pearls, and precious stones to none 
but him who brings to each lock its own appropri- 
ate key, so the riches of divine truth, redeeming 
love, and saving mercy are open only to such as 
come to Jesus with a belief in His divinity on the 
one hand, and a belief in His humanity on the 
other ; — who behold in the child, whose birth 
was sung by angels, the son of Mary, and worship 
the only begotten, well beloved, and eternal Son 
of God. 

Now this mingling of divine and human cha- 
racters distinguished Christ's birth as much as His 
death. The halo of glory that surrounded His 
dying, crowned His infant head. His sun rose, as 
it afterwards set, behind a heavy bank of clouds ; 
but the divinity they screened, touched their edges 
alike with burning gold ; so that He at whose 
death the rocks were rent, and the sun eclipsed, 
and graves deserted of their dead, no more entered 
than He left our world as a common son of Adam. 
Not that a world which was to reject Him went 
out to meet its King with homage and royal 
honors. Omen of coming events, it received Him 
in sullen silence. But the heavens declared His 
glory, the skies sent out a sound ; and the tokens 
of His first advent — unlike the thunders which shall 
rend the skies when He comes the second time to 
judgment — were all in beautiful harmony with its 
object. It was love and saving mercy ; there 
were light, music, and angel forms. With this 
object all things indeed were in perfect keeping, — 
the serene night — the shining stars — the pearly 
dews glistening on the grass — snowy flocks safely 
pasturing — and the shepherds themselves, to whom 



THE ANGELS' SONG. 40j 

the annunciation was made ; men who, whether 
going before their charge, or carrying the lambs in 
their arms, or gently leading those that were with 
young, or standing bravely between their flocks 
and the roaring lion, were the choicest emblems 
and types of Him who, dying to save us, gave His 
life for the sheep. To them there suddenly ap- 
peared a multitude of the heavenly host, turning 
night into day, and shedding on the soft hills 
around a bright but gentle radiance. As guard oi 
honor, they had swept in thei^ downward flight by 
many a sun and star, escorting the Son of God to 
our nether world. And now — ere they left Him to 
tread the wine-press alone, and returned on up- 
ward wings to their native heavens, and their 
service before the throne of God — these celestials 
bent their loving eyes on the stable ; and in an- 
ticipation of Jesus' triumphs, of men saved, death 
conquered, graves spoiled, and Satan crushed, they 
sang " Glory to God in the highest, and on earth 
peace, good will toward men." 

This hymn, sung perhaps in parts by different 
bands of these heavenly choristers, consists of three 
parts ; and we now proceed to the illustration of 
these. 



404 THE ANGELS' SONO. 



I. 

THAT REDEMPTION YIELDS THE HIGHEST GLOR1 
TO GOD. 

I SAY the highest ; for though His absolute glory, 
like His eternal being and infinite perfections, 
admits of no degrees, and is affected by no circum- 
stances whatever, it is otherwise with His declara- 
tive glory, as old theologians called it. This, which 
I speak of, and which angels sung of, consists in the 
manifestation of His attributes. Whatever it be, 
though only the drop of water, which appears a 
world of wonders to the eyes of a man of science, 
any work is glorious which reflects the divine 
character in any measure, and still more glorious 
or glorifying which exhibits it in a greater measure. 
God's glory expands and unfolds itself as we rise 
upward in the study of His works from inanimate 
to living objects ; from plants to animals ; from 
animals to man ; from man to angels ; from these 
to archangels, upward and still upward, to the 
Being who, bathed in the full blaze of divine 
effulgence, tops the pyramid, and stands on the 
highest pinnacle of Creation. That Being is God 
manifest in the flesh, our Lord Jesus Christ — the 
redemption which He wrought for us, through blood 
and suffering and death, being the work which 
reveals God most fully to our eyes, and forming a 
looking-glass, so to speak, to reflect the whole 



THE ANGELS SONG. 405 

measure of divinity. This will appear if we 
look at — 

The Redeemer. One of His many titles is the 
Wonderful. Anticipating the royal birth at Bethle- 
hem, and speaking of Christ in terms which no 
other key can open but the doctrine of His divinity, 
Isaiah says, " Unto us a child is born, unto us a 
son is given ; and the government shall be upon 
his shoulder : and his name shall be called Won- 
derful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlast- 
ing Father, The Prince of Peace." With pencils of 
sunlight God paints the rose ; by arts of a divine 
chemistry He turns foul decay into the snow-white 
purity and fragrant odors of a lily ; He fashions 
the infant in the darkness of the mother's womb ; 
He inspires dead matter with the active principle 
of life ; in man He unites an ethereal spirit to a lump 
of clay — wonders these which have perplexed the 
wisest men, and remain as incomprehensible to 
philosophers as to fools. Yet, as if there was no 
mystery in these but what our understanding could 
fathom — as if there was nothing in these to teach 
proud man humility and rouse his admiration — as if 
there was indeed no wonder but Christ himself in all 
this great and glorious universe, He is called by way 
of eminence the Wonderful. And why ? Because, 
as the stars cease to shine in presence of the sun, 
quenched by the effulgence, and drowned in the 
flood of his brighter beams, these lose all their 
wonders beside this little Child. To a meditative 
man it is curious to stand over any cradle where an 
infant sleeps ; and, as we look on the face so calm, 
and the little arms gently folded on the placid 
breast, to think of the mighty powers and passions 



406 THE ANGELS* SONG. 

which are slumbering there ; to think that this 
feeble nursling has heaven or hell before it ; that 
an immortal in a mortal form is allied to angels ; 
that the life which it has begun shall last when the 
sun is quenched, enduring throughout all eternity. 
Much more wonderful the spectacle the manger 
offers, where shepherds bend their knees, and 
angels bend their eyes ! Here is present, not the 
immortal, but the eternal ; here is not one kind of 
matter united to another, or a spiritual to an 
earthly element, but the Creator to a creature, 
divine Omnipotence to human weakness, the 
Ancient of Days to the infant of a day. What 
deep secrets of divine wisdom, power, and love lie 
here, wrapped up in these poor swaddling-clothes ! 
Mar)' holds in her arms, in this manger with its 
straw, what draws the wondering eyes, and inspires 
the loftiest songs of angels. If that be not God's 
greatest, and therefore most glorifying work, where 
are we to seek it ? in what else is it found ? " The 
depth saith, It is not in me ; and the sea saith, It 
is not in me !" Were we to range the vast uni- 
verse to find its rival, we should return, like the 
dove to its ark, to the stable-door, and the swad- 
dled babe, there to mingle human voices with the 
heavenly choir — singing, Glory to God in the 
highest ! 

The fact that redemption yields God the highest 
glory will appear also if we look at — 

The Redeemed. — It is in them, in sinners saved, 
not in the happy and holy angels, that God stands 
out fully revealed as in a mirror ; long and broad 
enough, if I may say so, to show forth all His 
attributes. To vary the figure ; the cross of Christ 



THE ANGELS' SONG. 407 

is the focus in which all the beams of divinity, all 
the attributes of the Godhead, are gathered into 
one bright, burning spot, with power to warm the 
coldest and melt the stoniest heart. No man hath 
seen God at any time, otherwise than in His 
works ; and though created things are immeasura- 
bly inferior to their Creator, they may still help us 
to form some conception of His character. A 
drop of water is an ocean, a spark of fire is a sun, 
every grain of sand on the sea-shore is a world, in 
miniature ; and as those who have never seen 
ocean, or sun, or world, may form some idea of 
their appearance by magnifying these their minia- 
tures millions of millions of times, so, by immensely 
magnifying the age, the power, the wisdom, the 
holiness of an angel, we could form some dim con- 
ception of God. Not that we would not have still 
to ask, " Who can by searching find out God ? who 
can find out the Almighty to perfection ?" — not 
that when we had exclaimed, in the sublime words 
of Job, " Hell is naked before him, and destruction 
hath no covering. He stretcheth out the north 
over the empty place, and hangeth the earth on 
nothing. He bindeth up the waters in his thick 
clouds. He holdeth back the face of His throne. 
The pillars of heaven tremble and are astonished 
at His reproof. He divideth the sea with His 
power. By His spirit He hath garnished the 
heavens ;" — we would not have to add with the 
patriarch, " These are parts of His ways ; but how 
little a portion is heard of him ? but the thunder 
of His power who can understand ?" 

Study Him, for example, in the angels who sung 
this birth-song ! They are holy, and we may con- 



408 THE ANGELS' SONG. 

elude that their Maker is infinitely holy ; they ar€ 
wise, and He who made them must possess infinite 
wisdom ; they are powerful, and He must be omni- 
potent ; the God of good angels must be infinitely 
good, as the avenger of sin and evil ones must be 
infinitely just. This is sound reasoning — for, as 
David says, " He that planted the ear, shall he 
not hear ? He that formed the eye, shall he not 
see ? He that chastiseth the heathen, shall not 
he correct ? He that teacheth man knowledge, 
shall not he know ?" Still, however lofty and 
worthy were the conceptions which we thus formed 
of God, He had never been discovered in the full 
glory of His gracious character by this or any 
corresponding process. Unspeakable honor to 
man and unspeakable grace in God, the fulness of 
His character is revealed, not by seraphs but by 
saints — in redeemed and ransomed sinners. And 
so Mary Magdalene, as reflecting His attributes 
more fully than angels, wears in heaven a brighter 
glory than crowns their unfallen heads. She, and 
all with her, who have washed their robes in the 
blood of the Lamb, are trophies of free, saving 
mercy ; monuments of that love which, when stern 
justice had dragged us to the mouth of the pit, and 
angels, who had seen their fellows punished by 
one awful act of vengeance, stood in dread and 
silent expectation of another, graciously interposed, 
saying, " Deliver from going down to the pit, I 
have found a ransom. " Then, blessed Son of God, 
thou didst step forward to say, And I am that 
ransom ! From that day heaven was happier. It 
found a new joy. Angels tuned their golden harps 
to higher strains ; and now, these blessed spirits, 



THE ANGELS' SONG. 4O9 

above the mean jealousies of earth's elder brothers, 
whenever they see Christ born anew in a soul — a 
sinner born again, called, converted, apparelled in 
Jesus' righteousness, rejoicing in His arms, or even 
weeping at His feet, wake up the old, grand birth- 
song, singing, " Glory to God in the highest !" 
" There is joy," said Jesus, " in the presence of the 
angels of God over one sinner that repenteth — joy 
shall be in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, 
more than over ninety and nine just persons, which 
need no repentance." 



410 THE ANGELS' SONG. 



PAET II. 

No man hath seen God at any time ; so saith 
the Scriptures. He who is confined to no bounds 
of space cannot in the nature of things have any 
visible form. God has however occasionally made 
revelations of Himself; and such are described in 
language which seems opposed alike to the decla- 
rations of Scripture and the deductions of reason. 
It is said, for instance, of Moses and Aaron, when 
they ascended Mount Sinai, that " they saw the 
God of Israel ;" and Isaiah tells how he " saw the 
Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up, and 
His train filled the temple." Believing with the 
Jews that if any man saw God he could not survive, 
but would die as by a flash of lightning, the pro- 
phet was struck with terror, and cried, in expecta- 
tion of immediate death, " I am undone ; for mine 
eyes have seen the Lord of hosts." 

The object seen in these and also other cases 
was no doubt the Schekinah — that holy and mys- 
terious flame whereby God made His presence 
known in the days of old. We know little con- 
cerning it beyond this, that it was of the nature 
of light. The fairest, purest, oldest of created 
things, passing untainted through pollution, turn- 
ing gloomy night into day, and imparting their 
varied beauties to earth and air and ocean, this of 
all material elements was the fittest symbol of 



THE ANGELS' SONG. 411 

God. A circumstance this to which we probably 
owe the ancient practice of worshipping the Divi- 
nity by fire, and certainly such figures as these : 
" God is light ;" " He clothes himself with light as 
with a garment ;" " He dwelleth in light that is 
inaccessible and full of glory." This light, said 
to have been intensely luminous, brighter than a 
hundred suns, was not always nor even usually 
visible ; although, like a lamp placed behind a 
curtain, it may have usually imparted to the cloud 
which concealed it a tempered and dusky glow. 
There were occasions when the veil of this temple 
was rent asunder ; and then the light shone out 
with intense splendor — dazzling all eyes, and con- 
vincing sceptics that this cloud, now resting on the 
tabernacle, and now, signal for the host to march, 
floating upward in the morning air, was not akin 
to such as are born of swamps or sea ; and which, 
as emblems of our mortality, after changing from 
rosy beauty into leaden dullness, melt into air, 
leaving the place that once knew them to know 
them no more for ever. This symbol and token 
of the Divine presence was of all the types and 
figures of Jesus Christ in some respects both the 
most apposite and glorious : a cloud with God 
within, and speaking from it — going before to 
guide the host — placing Himself for their protec- 
tion between them and their enemies — by day 
their grateful shade from scorching heat, by night 
their sun amid surrounding darkness. 

It was one, and not the least singular of its 
aspects, that this cloud always grew light when 
the world grew dark — the cloudy pillar of the day 
blazing forth at night as a pillar of fire. So shone 



412 THE ANGELS' SONG. 

the divinity in Him who was " Emmanuel, God 
with us." His darkest circumstances, His deep- 
est humiliations, being the occasions of His great- 
est glory. He was buried, and being so, was 
greatly humbled ; but angels attended His funeral, 
and guarded His tomb. He was crucified, con- 
demned to the death of the vilest criminal, and 
being so, was greatly humbled ; but those heavens 
and earth which are as little moved by the death 
of the greatest monarch as by the fall of a withered 
leaf, expressed their sympathy with the august 
Sufferer — the sun hid his face, and went into 
mourning, the earth trembled with horror at the 
deed. He was born, and in like manner He was 
greatly humbled, and had been, though His birth 
had happened in a palace and His mother had 
been a queen ; but with a poor woman for His 
mother, a stable for His birth-place, a manger for 
His cradle, and straw for His bed, these mean- 
nesses, like its spots on the face of the sun, were 
lost in a blaze of glory. Earth did not celebrate 
His advent, but Heaven did. Illumining her skies, 
she sent herald angels to proclaim the news, and 
lighted up a new star to guide the feet which 
sought the place where man's best hopes were 
cradled. The most joyful birth that ever happened, 
it was meet that it should be sung by angel lips, — 
and all the more because, redemption glorifies 
God in the sight of holy angels. 



THE ANGELS' SONG. 413 



II. 

REDEMPTION GLORIFIES GOD IN THE SIGHT OP 
HOLY ANGELS. 

THEY take a lively interest in the affairs of our 
world, as the Scriptures show, and as Jacob saw 
in his vision ; for what else means that ladder 
where they appeared to his dreaming eye ascend- 
ing and descending between earth and heaven ? 
To the care of John our dying Lord committed 
His mother ; but God, when He sent His Son into 
the world, committed Him to their care, — " He 
hath given his angels charge over thee, that thou 
dash not thy foot against a stone." The care 
which their Head enjoyed is extended to all the 
members. How happy are the people that are in 
such a case ! Think of the poor saint who has 
none to wait on him, or the pious domestic who 
serves a table, and humbly waits on others, having 
angels to wait on her ! Are they not said in 
Scripture to be " ministering spirits sent forth to 
minister to them who are heirs of salvation ?" — 
however the world may despise them, "this honor 
have all his saints." However lowly their earthly 
state, the saints are a kingly race ; and as our 
highest nobles deem it an honor to wait on the 
princes of the blood, accepting and soliciting 
offices at court, the angels are happy to serve 



4*4 THE ANGELS' SONG. 

such as, through their union with His incarnate 
Son, stand nearer the throne of God than them- 
selves. Unseen by him, these celestials guard 
the good man's bed ; watch his progress ; wait on 
his person ; guide his steps ; and ward off many a 
blow the devil aims at his head and heart. They 
are the nurses of Christ's babes ; the tutors and 
teachers of His children. A belief in guardian 
saints is a silly Popish superstition ; but we have 
good authority in Scripture for believing that in 
this our state of pupilage and probation, along all 
the way to Zion, in the conflicts with temptation, 
and amid the thick of battle, God commits His 
saints to angels' care ; and that, as it is in their 
loving arms, that the soul of an aged saint is borne 
away to glory, every child of God has its own 
celestial guardian, and sleeps in its little cradle 
beneath the feathers of an angel's wing. What 
said our Lord ? On setting a child before the 
people as a pattern for them to copy, " Take 
heed," He said, " that ye despise not one of these 
little ones ; for I say unto you, That in heaven 
their angels do always behold the face of my 
Father which is in heaven." 

But whether we are, or are not, the happier for 
angels, there is no question that they are the 
happier for us. They always loved God ; but 
since man's redemption they love Him more, and 
employ higher strains and loftier raptures to praise 
His wisdom, power, holiness, justice, and love. It 
has disclosed to them new views of God, and 
opened up in heaven new springs of pleasure. 
Heaven has grown more heavenly, and though 
they might have deemed it impossible to add one 



THE ANGELS' SONG. 41$ 

drop to their happiness, they are holier and hap- 
pier angels. There is joy among the angels of 
heaven over every sinner that repenteth ; and to 
the joyful cry, My son that was dead is alive again, 
they respond, as they receive the returned peni- 
tent from the Father's arms into their own, My 
brother that was dead is alive again, that was lost 
is found ! Never, from surf-beaten shore or rocky 
headland, do spectators watch with such anxious 
interest the life-boat, as, now seen and now lost, 
now breasting the waves and now hurled back on 
the foaming crest of a giant billow, she makes for 
the wreck, as they watch those who, with the 
Bible in their hearts and hands, go forth to save 
the lost. And when the poor perishing sinner 
throws himself into Jesus' arms, what gratulations 
among these happy spirits ! " There is joy in 
heaven over one sinner that repenteth, more than 
over ninety and nine just persons." The event is 
one which I can fancy was in the prophet's eye, 
when, fired with rapture, he cried, "Sing, O ye 
heavens ; for the Lord hath done it : shout, ye 
lower parts of the earth ; break forth into singing, 
ye mountains, O forest, and every tree therein : 
for the Lord hath redeemed Jacob, and glorified 
himself in Israel !" And the heavens do sing. 
While the saints, descending from their thrones, 
cast their sparkling crowns at Jesus' feet, and ten 
times ten thousand harps sound, and ten times ten 
thousand angels sing, " Worthy is the Lamb that 
was slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, 
and strength, and honor, and glory, and blessing," 



416 THE ANGELS' SONG. 



ML 

REDEMPTION GLORIFIES GOD THROUGHOUT ALL 
THE UNIVERSE. 

WITH a small band of fishermen at His side, and 
no place on earth where to lay His head, Jesus 
pointed to the sun, riding high in heaven or rising 
over the hill-tops to bathe the scene in golden 
splendor, and said, " I am the light of the world." 
A bold saying ; yet the day is coming, however 
distant it appears, when the tidings of salvation 
carried to the ends of the earth, and Jesus wor- 
shipped of all nations, shall justify the speech ; and 
the wishes shall be gratified, and the prayers 
answered, and the prophecies fulfilled, so beauti- 
fully expressed in these lines of Heber : 

$i Waft, waft, ye winds, His story, 
And you, ye waters, roll: 
Till, like a sea of glory, 
It spreads from pole to pole." 

But shall our world be the limits of the wondrous 
tale ? Though ever and deeply interesting as the 
scene of redemption, just as to patriots is the 
barest moor where a people fought and conquered 
for their freedom, our earth holds in other respects 
but a very insignificant place in creation. In a 
space of the sky no larger than a tenth part of the 
moon's disc, the telescope discovers many thou- 



THE ANGELS' SONG. 417 

sands of stars, each a sun, attended probably by a 
group of planets like our own : their number in- 
deed is such that many parts of the heavens appear 
as if they were sprinkled with gold-dust ; and 
probably there are as many suns and worlds in the 
universe as there are leaves in a forest, or rather, 
sands on the ocean shore. 

Boldly venturing out into the regions of specu- 
lation, some have thought that, if sin defile any of 
these worlds, its inhabitants may share in the 
benefits of the atonement which Christ offered in 
ours ; and that beings further removed than we 
from the scenes of Calvary, and differing more 
from us than we from the Jews of Whom the 
Messiah came, may, as well as we, find a Saviour 
by faith in Jesus ; and that for this end the work 
of redemption has perhaps been revealed to such 
as, removed from our earth many millions of miles, 
never even saw the planet that was its theatre 
and scene. There may be nothing in this. I dare 
not say it is impossible ; but these speculations 
touch the deep things of God, and we would not 
attempt to be wise above that which is written. 
Still, Scripture affords ground for believing, for 
hoping, at least, that the story of redemption has 
been told in other worlds than ours, and that the 
love of God in Christ — that fairest, fullest manifest- 
ation of our Father's heart — links all parts of 
creation together, and links all more closely to the 
throne of God. " He that hath seen me, Philip," 
said our Lord to that disciple, " hath seen the 
Father also ;" and as I believe that He who 
delights to bless all His unfallen creatures would 
not withhold from the inhabitants of other spheres 

27 



41 8 THE ANGELS' SONG. 

the happiness of knowing Him in His most ador- 
able, gracious, and glorious character, I can fancy 
them eagerly searching their skies for a sight of 
our world,— the scene of that story which has 
conveyed to them the fullest knowledge of Him 
they love, their deepest sense of His ineffable 
holiness and unspeakable mercy. Not from pol.e 
to pole, but from planet to planet, and from star 
to star, the love of Christ deserves to be pro- 
claimed ; and it is a thought as grand as it is 
probable, that the story of Calvary, not yet trans- 
lated into all the tongues of earth, is told in the 
ten times ten thousand tongues of other w r orlds, 
and that the Name which is above every name — 
the blessed Name which dwells in life in a believer's 
heart and trembles in death on his lips — is known 
in spheres which his foot never trod and his eye 
never saw. Such honors crown the head man 
once crowned with thorns ; and therefore did David, 
with the eye of a seer and the fire of a poet, while 
calling for praise from kings of the earth and all 
people, princes and all judges, young men and 
children, rise to a loftier flight, exclaiming : " Praise 
Him in the heights. Praise ye Him, all ye angels : 
praise ye Him, all His hosts. Praise ye Him, sun 
and moon : praise Him, all ye stars of light." 



THE ANGELS' SONG, 419 



THE REDEEMER AND REDEMPTION ARE WORTHY 
OF OUR HIGHEST PRAISE. 

LET us bend the head, and, in company of the 
shepherds, enter the stable. Heard above the 
champing of bits, the stroke of hoofs, the rattling 
of chains, and the lowing of oxen, the feeble wail 
of an infant turns our steps to a particular stall : 
here a woman lies stretched on a bed of straw, and 
her new-born child, hastily wrapped in some part 
of her dress, finds a cradle in the manger. A 
pitiful sight ! — such a fortune as occasionally befalls 
the Arabs of society — such an incident as may 
occur in the history of one of those vagrant, vaga- 
bond, outcast families who, their country's shame, 
tent in woods and sleep under hedges, when no 
barn or stable offers a covering to their houseless 
heads. Yet princes on their way to the crown, 
brides on their way to the marriage, bannered 
armies on their way to the battle, and highest 
angels in their flight from star to star, might stop 
to say of this sight, as Moses of the burning bush, 
" Let me turn aside, and see this great sight !" 

The prophet foretells a time when the wolf 
shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall 
lie down with the kid ; and, bound in the same 
stall, and fed at the same manger, the lion shall 



420 THE ANGELS' SONG 

eat straw with the ox. Here is a greater wonder ! 
This stable is the house of God, the very gate 
of heaven : under this dusty roof, inside those 
narrow walls, He lodges whom the heaven of 
heavens cannot contain : the tenant of this manger 
is the Son, who, leaving the bosom of His Father 
to save us, here pillows His head on straw ; of 
this feeble babe the hands are to hurl Satan from 
his throne, and wrench asunder the strong bars of 
death ; this one tender life, this single corn-seed is 
to become the prolific parent of a thousand har- 
vests, and fill the garners of glory with the fruits 
of salvation. Mean as it looks, yet more splendid 
than marble palaces, — more sacred than the most 
venerable and hallowed temples, here the Son of 
God was born, and with Him were born Faith, 
Hope and Charity — our Peace, our Liberty, and 
our Eternal Life. Had He not been born, we had 
never been born again ; had He not lain in a manger, 
we had never lain in Abraham's bosom ; had He 
not been wrapped in swaddling-clothes, we had 
been wrapped in ever lasting flames ; had His head 
in infancy not been pillowed on straw, and in 
death on thorns, ours had never been crowned in 
glory. But that He was born, better we had never 
been ; life had been a misfortune to which time had 
brought no change, and death no relief, and the 
grave no rest. " Glory to God in the highest," that 
He was born : we had otherwise been lifting up oui 
eyes in torment with this unavailing, endless cry t 
" O that my mother had been my grave ! Cursed 
be the day wherein I was born !" 

If language cannot express the love and grati* 
tude we owe to the Saviour, let our lives do so. 



THE ANGELS' SONG. 42 1 

Shallow streams run brawling over their pebbly 
beds, but the broad, deep river pursues its course 
in silence to the sea ; and so is it with our strong- 
est, deepest feelings. Great joy like great sorrow, 
great gladness like great grief, great admiration 
like great detestation, take breath and speech 
away. On first seeing Mont Blanc as the sun rose 
to light up his summit and irradiate another and 
another snow-clad pinnacle, I remember the silent 
group who had left their couches to witness and 
watch the glorious scene : before its majesty and 
magnificence all were for awhile dumb, opening 
not the mouth. I have read, when travellers 
reached the crest of the hill, and first looked down 
on Jerusalem, — the scene of our Saviour's sorrow, 
the garden that heard His groans, the city that 
led Him out to die, the soil that was bedewed with 
His tears and crimsoned with His blood, — how 
their hearts were too full for utterance. If a sight 
of the city where He died so affects Christians, as 
the scenes of His last hours rush on their memory 
and rise vividly to their imagination, how will 
they look on that scene where, surrounded by ten 
times ten thousand saints and thousands of angels, 
He reigns in glory ! I can fancy the saint who 
has shut his eyes on earth to open them in heaven, 
standing speechless ; and as the flood of music fills 
his ear, and the blaze of glory his eye, and the 
thought of what he owes to Jesus his heart, — I can 
fancy him laying the crown, which he has received 
from his Saviour's hands, in silent gratitude at His 
feet ; and as he recovers speech, and sees hell and 
its torments beneath him, earth and its sorrows 
behind him, an eternity of unchequered, unchang- 



422 THE ANGELS SONG. 

ing bliss, before him, — I can fancy the first words 
that break from his grateful lips will be, " Glory to 
God, glory to God in the highest !" Never till 
then, nowhere but there, will our praise be worthy 
of Jesus and His redemption. Meanwhile, let Him 
who demonstrates God's highest glory and fills 
heaven's highest throne, hold the highest place in 
our hearts. Let us surround His name with the 
highest honors ; and, laying our time and talents, 
our faculties and our affections, our wealth, and 
fame, and fortunes at His feet, crown Him Lord of 
all. 



THE ANGELS' SONG. 423 



PAET III. 

Some years ago the question which agitated the 
heart of Europe was, Peace or War ? The interests 
of commerce, the lives of thousands, the fate of 
kingdoms, trembled in the balance. Navies rode at 
anchor, and opposing armies, like two black thun- 
der-clouds, waited for statesmen to issue from the 
council-chamber, bearing the sword or the olive- 
branch. Esteeming the arbitrament of battle one 
which necessity only could justify, Britain longed 
for peace ; but, with ships ready to slip their cables, 
and soldiers standing by their guns, she was grimly 
prepared for war. Had ambassadors from the na- 
tion with which we were ready to join issue 
approached our shores at this crisis, what eager 
crowds would have attended their advent, and how 
impatiently would they have waited the course of 
events ! And had peace been the result of the 
conference, how would the tidings, as they passed 
from mouth to mouth, and were flashed by the 
telegraph from town to town, have filled and moved 
the land ! The pale student would have forgot his 
books, the anxious merchant his speculations, the 
trader his shop, the tradesman his craft, tired labor 
her toils, happy children their toys, and even the 
bereaved their griefs ; and like the whirlpool, which 
sucks straws and sea-weed, boats and gallant ships 
— all things, big or small — into its mighty vortex, 



424 THE ANGELS SONG. 

the news would have absorbed all other subjects. 
The one topic of conversation at churches and 
theatres, at marriages and funerals, in hails and 
cottages, in crowded cities and in lonely glens ; 
ministers had carried it in their sermons to the 
pulpit, and devout Christians in their thanksgivings 
to the Throne of Grace. 

In a much greater crisis, where the stakes were 
deeper, the question being not one of peace or war 
between man and man, but between man and God, 
an embassy from heaven reached the borders of 
our world. Unlike Elijah, rough in dress, of aspect 
stern and speech severe, whose appearance struck 
Ahab with terror, and wrung from the pale lips of 
the conscience-stricken king the cry, " Hast thou 
found me, O mine enemy ?" — unlike Jonah as he 
walked the wondering streets, and woke their 
echoes with his doleful cry, " Yet forty days, and 
Nineveh shall be destroyed," — the ambassadors 
were " a multitude of shining angels." Leaving the 
gates of heaven, they winged their flight down the 
starry sky to descend and hover above the fields of 
Bethlehem, and in the form of a song, as became 
such joyful tidings, to proclaim news of Peace — their 
song, " Glory to God in the highest, on earth peace, 
good will toward men." Nothing presents a more 
remarkable example of " much in little " than these 
few but weighty words. In small crystals, that 
coat, as with shining frost-work, the sides of a ves- 
sel, we have all the salts which give perpetual 
freshness to the ocean, their life to the weeds that 
clothe its rocks, and to the fish that swim its depths 
and shallows. In some drops of oil distilled from 
rose-leaves of Indian lands, and valued at many 



THE ANGELS' SONG. 4^5 

times their weight in gold, we have enclosed with- 
in one small phial the perfume of a whole field of 
roses — that which, diffused through ten thousand 
leaves, gave every flower its fragrance. Essences, 
as they are called, present, in a concentrated form, 
the peculiar properties of leaves or flowers or fruits, 
of the animal, vegetable, or earthy bodies from 
which they are extracted ; and, like these, this 
hymn presents the whole gospel in a single sentence. 
Here is the Bible, the scheme of redeeming love, 
that grand work which saved a lost world, gladdened 
angels in heaven, confounded devils in hell, and 
engaged the highest attributes of the Godhead, 
summed up in one short, glorious, glowing para- 
graph. For what so much as the gospel, what, in- 
deed, but the gospel, yields Jehovah the highest 
glory, blesses our earth with peace, and expresses 
Heaven's good-will to the sons of men ? Such 
were the embassadors, and such the embassage ! 

When the king of Babylon, hearing how the 
shadow had travelled back ten degrees on the dial 
of Ahaz, sent ambassadors to Hezekiah to inquire 
about this strange phenomenon, Hezekiah received 
them with the greatest respect ; paid them honors, 
indeed, which cost both him and his country dear. 
The news of an embassy having come to Joshua 
spread like wildfire among the Israelites, moving 
the whole camp. Seized with eager curiosity, all 
ran to hear what the strangers had to say, and gaze 
with wonder on their soiled and ragged dress, their 
clouted shoes and mouldy bread. The herald 
angels, though arrayed in heavenly splendors, and 
bringing glad tidings of peace, were received with 
no such honors, excited no such interest. Strange 



426 THE ANGELS' SONG. 

and sad omen of the indifference with which many 
would hear the gospel ! While angels sung, the 
world slept ; and none but some wakeful watchers 
heard their voices or beheld this splendid vision. 
They were humble shepherds, to whom the ambas- 
sadors of heaven delivered their message ; and it 
may be well to pause and look at those who were 
privileged and honored to hear it. We do not pre- 
tend to know certainly the reasons why God, who 
giveth no account of His ways, conferred an honor 
so distinguished on them rather than on others. 
But we may guess ; and in any case may find the 
employment profitable and instructive, if we are 
wise enough to find " sermons in stones, books in 
the running brooks, and good in everything." 



THE ANGELS' SONG. 427 



V. 

THEY WERE MEN OF A PEACEFUL CALLING. 

THE highest view of the profession of arms is* 
that the soldier, deterring evil-doers and maintain- 
ing order at home, on the one hand, and prepared, 
on the other, to resist hostile invasion, is in reality, 
notwithstanding his deadly weapons and warlike 
garb, an officer or instrument of peace. A day is 
coming — alas ! with the roar of cannon booming 
across the ocean, how far distant it seems ! — when 
Christianity shall exert a paramount influence 
throughout all the world : then, tyrants having 
ceased to reign, and slaves to groan, and nations to 
suffer from the lust of gold or power, this beautiful 
picture of the prophet shall become a reality : 
" The whole earth," said the seer, "is at rest, and 
is quiet ; they break forth into singing." Till then, 
paradoxical though it appears, the cause of peace 
may be pled with most effect by the mouths of 
cannon. Fitness for war is often the strongest 
security for peace ; and a nation whose wishes and 
interests both run in the direction of peace, may 
find no way of warning restless and unprincipled 
and ambitious neighbors that it is not to be touched 
with impunity, but by showing itself, thistle-like, 
all bristling over with bayonets. "Necessity," 
said Paul, "is laid on me to preach." It may be 



428 THE ANGELS' SONG. 

laid on a people to fight. Nor, when the sword has 
been drawn in a good cause, has God refused His 
sanction to that last, terrible resort. It was He 
who imparted strength to the arm before whose 
resistless sweep the Philistines fell in swathes, like 
grass to the mower's scythe. It was He who 
guided the stone that, shot from David's sling, 
buried itself in the giant's brow. It was He wh 
gave its earthquake-power to the blast of the 
horns which levelled the walls of Jericho with the 
ground. And when night came down to cover 
the retreat of the Amorites and their allies, it was 
He who interposed to secure the bloody fruits of 
victory — saying, as eloquently put by a rustic 
preacher, "' Fight on, my servant Joshua, and I 
will hold the lights ;' and ' the sun stood still on 
Gibeon, and the moon in the valley of Ajalon.' n 
Admitting war to be an awful scourge, these cases 
show that the duties of a soldier are not incon- 
sistent with the calling of a Christian. 

Yet it was over no battle-field, the most sacred to 
truth and liberty, these angels hovered ; no blazing 
homesteads nor burning cities shed fheir lurid 
gleam on the skies they made radiant with light ; 
nor was it where their sweet voices strangely 
mingled with the clash of arms and the shouts of 
charging squadrons that they sang of glory, good- 
will, and peace. This had been out of keeping 
with the congruity which characterizes all God's 
works of nature, and which will be found equally 
characteristic of His works of providence and 
grace. As was meet, the glad tidings of peace 
were announced to men who were engaged in an 
eminently peaceful occupation ; who passed tran- 



THE ANGELS' SONG. 429 

quil lives amid the quietness of the solemn hills, 
far removed alike from the ambitious strife of cities 
and the bloody spectacles of war. Lying amid the 
solitudes of the mountains, where no sounds fall 
on the ear but the bleating of flocks, the lowing 
of cattle, the hum of bees, the baying of a watch- 
dog from the lonely homestead, the murmur of 
hidden rills, the everlasting rush of the waterfall 
as it plunges flashing into its dark, foaming pool, 
pastoral are eminently peaceful scenes. Indeed, 
the best emblem of peace which a great painter 
has been able to present he owes to them — it is a 
picture of a quiet glen, with a lamb licking the 
rusty lips of a dismounted gun, while the flocks 
around crop the grass that waves above the slain. 

Apt scholars of the devil, wicked men have 
used Holy Scripture to justify the most impious 
crimes. Others, with more fancy than judgment, 
have drawn the most absurd conclusions from its 
facts ; but we seem warranted to conclude, that 
by selecting shepherds to receive the first tidings 
of Jesus' birth, apart from the circumstance that 
they were Christ's own favorite types of Himself, 
God intended to confer special honor on the cause, 
and encourage the lovers and advocates of peace. 
Deer are furnished by nature with horns, dogs 
with teeth, eagles with talons, serpents with 
poison, and bees with stings ; but men have no 
weapons of offence. Yet, acting under the do- 
minion of their lusts, men have a passion for 
fighting, and, easily fired with the spirit, and 
dazzled with the glory of war, are ready to abandon 
argument for blows ; and I cannot but think that 
He who would not permit David, the man aftei 



430 THE ANGELS' SONG. 

His own heart, to build Him a house because he 
had been a man of blood, conferred this honor on 
these humble shepherds because they were men of 
peace. Whether it be with Himself or our own 
consciences, in the midst of our families, among our 
neighbors, or between nation and nation, He 
enjoins us to cultivate peace ; in His own emphatic 
words, we are to " seek peace and pursue it." 



THE ANGELS SONG. 4JF 



VI. 

THEY WERE MEN OF HUMBLE RANK. 

Many in humble, as well as in more coveted 
circumstances, are discontented with their position. 
They repine at their lot, and murmur against the 
Providence which has assigned it. This is not 
only wicked but absurd, since true happiness lies 
much less in changing our condition than in mak- 
ing the best of it, whatever it be. Besides, God 
says, "I will make a man more precious than fine 
gold ; even a man than the golden wedge of 
Ophir ;" and the estimate which he forms of us 
turns in no respect whatever on the place we fill. 
One artist paints a grand, another a common, or 
even a mean, subject ; but we settle their compar- 
ative merits, praising this one and condemning 
that, not by the subjects they paint, but by the 
way they paint them. To borrow an illustration 
from the stage, (as Paul did from heathen games), 
one player, tricked out in regal state, with robes, 
and crown, and sceptre, performs the part of a 
king, and another that only of a common soldier 
or country boor ; yet the applause of the audience 
is not given to the parts the actors play, but 
to the way they play them. Even so, it is not the 
place that man fills, whether high or humble, but 
the way he fills it to which God has, and we should 
have, most regard. 



432 THE ANGELS' SONG. 

Not that we would reduce the inequalities of 
society any more than those of the earth, with its 
varied features of swelling hill and lovely dale, to 
one dull, long, common level. Death, the great 
grim leveller, does that office both for cottagers 
and kings. Let it be left to the sexton's spade. 
The mountains which give shelter to the valleys, 
and gather the rains that fill their rivers and 
fertilize their pastures, have important uses in 
nature, and so have the corresponding heights 
of rank and wealth and power in society. Setting 
our affections on things above, let us be content to 
wait for the honors and rest of heaven ; let us 
seek to be good rather than great ; to be rich in 
faith rather than in wealth ; to stand high in God's 
esteem rather than in man's ; saying, with Paul, 
" I have learned in whatsoever state I am, there- 
with to be content ;" — or singing with the boy in 
the " Pilgrim's Progress," who, meanly clad, but 
with " a fresh and well-favored countenance," fed 
his father's sheep : 

"He that is down needs fear no fell ; 
He that is low, no pride ; 
He that is humble ever shall 
Have God to be his guide. 

" I am content with what I have, 
Little be it or much ; 
And, Lord, contentment still I crave, 
Because thou savest such.'* 

" Do you hear him ?" said the guide. " I will 
dare to say that this boy lives a merrier life, and 
wears more of that herb called heart's-ease in his 
bosom, than he that is clad in silk and velvet," 



THE ANGELS* SONG. 433 

Why should a man blush for his humble origin ? 
The Saviour's mother was a poor woman ; and no 
head ever lay in a meaner cradle than the manger 
where Mary laid her first-born — the Son of the 
Most High God. Why should any be ashamed 
of honest poverty? Men of immortal names, the 
apostles, were called from the lowest ranks, and 
went forth to conquer and convert the world with- 
out a penny in their purse. Was not our Lord 
Himself poor ? He earned His bread, and ate it, 
with the sweat of His brow, while others lay 
luxuriously on down ; He had often no other roof 
than the open sky, or warmer bed than the dewy 
ground ; and never had else to entertain His 
guests than the coarsest and most common fare — 
barley-loaves and a few small fishes. Though rich 
in the wealth of Godhead, with the resources 
of heaven and of earth at His sovereign command, 
poverty attended His steps like His shadow, along 
the way from a humble cradle to a bloody grave. 
He made Himself poor that He might make 
us rich ; and it seemed meet that to poor rather 
than to rich men God should reveal the advent of 
Him who came to enrich the poor, whether kings 
or beggars, peers or peasants. As if to censure 
the respect paid to rank apart from merit, or to 
wealth apart from worth, He who has no respect 
for persons honored in these shepherds honest 
poverty and humble virtue. They received am- 
bassadors not accredited to sovereigns ; as cot- 
tages, not palaces, housed Him whom the heavens 
have received, and the heaven of heavens cannot 
contain. 

28 



4S4 THE angels' song. 



VII. 

THEY WERE MEN ENGAGED IN COMMON DUTIES 

Mothers cumbered with a load of domestic 
cares, merchants worried with business, statesmen 
charged with their country's affairs, and thousands 
who have a daily fight to keep the wolf from the 
door, fancy that, if they enjoyed the leisure some 
have, and could bestow more time on divine things, 
they would be more religious than they are, and 
rising to higher, calmer elevations of thought and 
temper, would maintain a nearer communion with 
God. It may reconcile such to their duties to ob- 
serve how the men were employed on whom God 
bestowed this unexpected and exalted honor. 
They were engaged in the ordinary business of 
their earthly calling ; of a hard and humble one. 
Types of Him to whose care His people owe their 
safety amid the temptations, and their support 
amid the trials of life, these shepherds were watch- 
ing their flocks ; peering through the gloom of 
night ; listening for the stealthy step of the robber ; 
ready, starting to their feet, to beat off the sneak- 
ing wolf, or bravely battle with the roaring lion. 

He whose sun shines as brightly on the lowliest 
as on the stateliest flower, regards with compla- 
cency the humblest man who wins his daily bread, 
and discharges the duties of his station, whatever 



the •angels' song. 435 

they be, in such a way as to glorify God and be of 
advantage to his fellow-creatures. Heaven, as 
this case brilliantly illustrates, is never nearer men, 
nor are they ever nearer it, than in those fields or 
workshops, where, with honest purpose and a good 
conscience, they are diligently pursuing their 
ordinary avocations. No doubt — for God does not 
cast His pearls before swine — these shepherds were 
pious men. One passing a night in their humble 
dwellings would have seen the father with rev- 
erent mien gather his household to prayer ; and 
one passing these uplands, where they held their 
watch, might have heard their voices swaying on 
the midnight air, as they sang together the psalms 
of David amid the very scenes where he tuned his 
harp and fed his father's flocks. But people are 
too apt to suppose that religion lies mainly, if not 
exclusively, in prayers, reading the Bible, listening 
to sermons, and attending on sacraments ; in time 
spent, or work done, or offerings made, or sacrifices 
endured, for what are called, in common language, 
religious objects. These are the means, not the 
end. He who rises from his knees to his daily 
task, and with an eye not so much to please men 
as God, does it well, carries divine worship to the 
workshop, and throws a sacred halo around the 
ordinary secularities of life. That, indeed, may be 
the highest expression of religion ; just as it is the 
highest expression of devoted loyalty to leave the 
precincts of the court and the presence of the 
sovereign, to endure the hardships of a campaign, 
and stand in soiled and tattered regimentals by the 
king's colors amid the deadly hail of battle. He 
who goes to common duties in a devout and 



436 THE ANGELS' song. 

Christian spirit proves his loyalty to God ; and, as 
this case proves, is of all men the most likely to be 
favored with tokens of the Divine presence — com- 
munications of grace which will sustain his patience 
under a life of toil, and fit him for the rest that 
i emaineth for the people of God. 



THE ANGELS' SONG. 43? 



PAET iy. 

MINGLED with its rattling shingle, the sea-beach 
bears hazel-nuts and fir-tops — things which once 
belonged to the blue hills that rise far inland on 
the horizon. Dropped into the brooks of bosky 
glens, they have been swept into the river, to 
arrive, after many windings and long wanderings, 
at the ocean ; to be afterwards washed ashore 
with shells and wreck and sea-weed. The Gulf 
Stream, whose waters by a beautiful arrangement 
of Providence bring the heat of southern latitudes 
to temper the wintry rigor of the north, throws 
objects on the western coasts of Europe which 
have performed longer voyages — fruits and forest- 
trees that have travelled the breadth of the 
Atlantic, casting the productions of the New World 
on the shores of the Old. 

Like these, the record of events which happened 
in the earliest ages of the world has been carried 
along the course of time, and spread by the di- 
verging streams of population over the whole 
surface of the globe. The facts are, as was to 
be expected, always more or less changed, and 
often, indeed, fragmentary. Still, like old coins, 
which retain traces of their original effigies and 
inscriptions, these traditions possess a high historic 
value. Their remarkable correspondence with the 
statements of the Bible confirms our faith in its 



438 THE ANGELS' SONG. 

divinity ; and their being common to nations ol 
habits the most diverse, and of habitations sepa- 
rated from each other by the whole breadth of the 
earth, proves the unity of our race. If they can- 
not be regarded as pillars, they are buttresses of 
the truth ; being inexplicable on any theory but 
that which infidelity has so often, but always vainly, 
assailed, namely, that all Scripture is given by 
inspiration of God, and that He has made of one 
blood all the nations of the earth. 

To take some examples. Look, for instance, at 
a custom common among the Red Indians, ages 
before white men had crossed the sea and carried 
the Bible to their shores ! At the birth of a child, 
as Humboldt relates, a fire was kindled on the 
floor of the hut, and a vessel of water placed be- 
side it ; but not with the murderous intent of those 
savage tribes who practise infanticide, and, pressed 
by hunger, destroy their children to save their 
food. The infant here was first plunged into the 
water — buried, as we should say, in baptism ; and 
afterwards swept rapidly and unharmed through 
the flaming fire. A very remarkable rite ; and 
one that, as we read the story, recalled to mind 
this double baptism, " He shall baptize you," said 
Jesus, " with the Holy Ghost and with fire ;" 
" Except a man be born of water and of the Spirit, 
he cannot see the kingdom of God." Its adminis- 
tration to infants, to such as had committed no 
sin, nor knew, indeed, their right hand from their 
left, implied a belief in the presence, not of acquired, 
but of orignal impurity. It is based on that ; and 
without it this rite is not only mysterious, but 
meaningless. Blind is the eye which does not see 



THE ANGELS' SONG. 439 

in this old pagan ceremony a tradition of the 
primeval Fall, aod dull the ear which does not 
hear in its voice no faint echo of these words, " I 
was shapen in iniquity, and in sin did my mother 

conceive me Create in me a clean heart, O 

God ; and renew a right spirit within me." 

Like the Fall, the Flood also was an event 
which, though it may have worn no channel in the 
rocks, has left indelible traces of its presence on 
the memory of mankind. The Greeks had strange 
traditions of this awful judgment ; so had the 
Romans ; and so had almost all the heathen 
nations of antiquity — strange legends, to which 
the Bible supplies the only key. Its account of 
the Deluge explains the traditions, and the tradi- 
tions corroborate it ; and by their general mutual 
correspondence we are confirmed in our belief that 
its authors were holy men of old, who spoke as 
they were moved by the Holy Ghost. To evade 
this argument, infidels may trace these legends to 
Jews, who, led captive of the heathen, related to 
them the Mosaic story, and took advantage of 
man's love of the marvellous to practise on his 
credulity. The attempt is vain ; since, on turning 
from the Old World to the New, we find the very 
same traditions there ; and there, long ages before 
Jew or Christian knew of its existence, or had 
landed on its shores. Those paintings which were 
to Mexicans and Peruvians substitutes for history, 
for a written or printed language, embody the 
story of the Flood. One of these pictures, for 
example, shows us a man afloat with his family in 
a rude boat on a shoreless sea ; in another, the 
raven of Bible story is cleaving on black wing the 



440 THE ANGELS' SONG. 

murky sky ; in a third, the heads of the hills appear 
in the background like islands emerging from the 
waste of waters, while, with such confusion as is 
inseparable from traditionary lore, the raven is 
substituted for the dove, and appears making its 
way to the lone tenants of the boat with evidence 
of the subsidence of the waters — a fir-cone in its 
bloody beak. Rolled down the long stream of 
ages, the true history is more or less changed, and 
even fragmentary, like a water-worn stone. Still, 
between these traditionary records and Bible story 
there is a remarkable agreement. They sound like 
its echo. In them pagan voices proclaim the holi- 
ness of God. Lest we also should perish with 
those who, looking on the placid sea and starry 
sky of the Old World's last night, asked, " Where 
is the promise of His coming ?" they warn us to 
flee from wrath to come. 

Of all these venerable legends painted in colors 
or embalmed in verse, written in story or sculp- 
tured on stone, none are more remarkable than 
those where the serpent appears. Old divines 
imagined that the creature whose shape Satan 
borrowed for the temptation had originally no 
malignant aspect; neither the poisoned fangs, nor 
eyes of fire, nor cold, scaly, wriggling form which 
man and beast recoil from with instinctive horror. 
They fancied that the curse, " Upon thy belly shalt 
thou go, and dust shalt thou eat," was followed by 
a sudden metamorphosis, and that till then the 
appearance of the serpent was as lovely as it is 
now loathsome. They gave the words of the 
curse a literal interpretation. They bear a deeper 
meaning, no doubt; yet the fancy of these old 



THE ANGELS* SONG. 44I 

divines may have approached nearer to fact than 
many perhaps suppose. Science reads the history 
of remote ages as she finds it inscribed on the 
rocks ; and, on turning over these stony leaves, 
we find that the earliest form of the serpent was 
different from that which, as it crawls and wriggles 
along the ground, so forcibly recalls the very words 
of the curse. Though they have now only such 
powers of motion as belong to the meanest worm, 
those skeletons which the rocks entomb show that 
the serpent tribe had once feet to walk with, and 
even wings to spurn the ground and cleave the air. 
Such is the testimony of the rocks ! And, taking 
the words of Scripture in their literal sense, there 
is, to say the least of it, a very curious coincidence 
between the voices of the rocks and the voice of 
revelation. But, be that as it may, what else but 
fragmentary traditions of Eden and the Fall are 
the forms of serpent worship among the heathen, 
who acted, as they still often act, on the principle 
of propitiating the powers of evil, the many old 
monuments on which its figure is sculptured, and 
the many old legends in which it plays a con- 
spicuous part ? What else was the belief of our 
pagan fathers, that within a dark cave in the 
bowels of the earth there sat a great scaly dragon, 
brooding on gold ? What else was the fabled 
garden of the Hesperides, where the trees, guarded 
by a fierce and formidable serpent, bore apples of 
gold ? What else was the tragic story of a father 
and his sons dying by the bites and crushed within 
the scaly folds of a coil of serpents ; and on which, 
as touchingly represented in the sculptured marble, 
we have never looked without recalling the fate of 



44^ THE ANGELS' SONG. 

Adam and his unhappy offspring ? And what else 
is the old legend of him who with rash hand 
sowed serpent's teeth, and saw spring from the 
soil, not clustering vines, or feathery palms, or 
stalks of waving corn, but a crop of swords, and 
spears, and armed men ? Read that fable by the 
light of the Bible, and the wild legend stands out 
the record of an awful fact. To the serpent the 
world owes its wars, and discords, and the sin 
which is their source. Disguised in its form, Satan 
brought in sin ; and when sin entered on the 
scene, peace departed — peace between God and 
man, peace between man and man, peace between 
man and himself — the peace which, with all its 
blessings, He descended from heaven to restore 
who is our Peace, and whom angels ushered on 
the scene of His toils and triumphs, of His atoning 
death and glorious victory, with songs of " Glory 
to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good 
will toward men." 



THE ANGELS' SONG. 443 



VIII. 

JESUS RESTORES PEACE BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 

THERE are things which God cannot do — which 
it were not to honor but dishonor Him to believe 
He could. He can neither tempt, nor be tempted, 
to sin. The sinner He may love, but not his sin ; 
that is impossible ; as the prophet expresses it, 
"Thou art of purer eyes than to behold evil, and 
canst not look on iniquity." Indeed, I would as 
soon believe that God could condemn a holy spirit 
to the pains of hell, as admit a guilty one, unjusti- 
fied and unsanctified, to the joys of heaven. In 
that terrible indictment which God thunders out 
against Israel by the mouth of Ezekiel, He says, 
" Thou art the land which is not cleansed. Her 
princes in the midst thereof are like wolves 
ravening the prey, to shed blood, and to destroy 
souls, to get dishonest gain. Her prophets have 
daubed them with untempered mortar, saying, 
Thus saith the Lord God, when the Lord hath not 
spoken. The people of the land have used op- 
pression, and exercised robbery, and have vexed 
the poor and needy ; therefore have I poured out 
mine indignation upon them ; I have consumed 
them with the fire of my wrath : their own way 
have I recompensed upon their heads, saith the 
Lord." So he arraigns this and the other class. 



444 THE ANGELS* SONG. 

And how of the priests? "Her priests have vio< 
lated my law, and have profaned mine holy- 
things: they have put no difference between the 
holy and profane, neither have they showed dif- 
ference between the unclean and the clean. " He 
censures His servants for not separating between 
the clean and the unclean; and it insults Him to 
suppose that He could do in His own practice 
what He condemns in theirs. Events, such as old 
murders brought to light, ever and anon occur to 
show that God's mill, as runs the proverb, though 
it grinds slow, grinds sure; yet because He does 
not execute judgment speedily on workers of 
iniquity — giving them space to repent; because 
He often seems, like one far remote from earth, to 
treat its crimes and virtues with equal indifference, 
men have not believed these solemn words, 
" There is no peace, saith my God, to the wicked." 
But let the wicked hear His words, and take the 
warning, " Thou hatest instruction ; thou castest 
My words behind thee. When thou sawest a 
thief, then thou consentedst with him. Thou hast 
been partaker with adulterers. Thou givest thy 
mouth to evil, and thy tongue practiseth deceit. 
Thou sittest and speakest against thy brother; 
thou slanderest thine own mother's son. These 
things hast thou done, and I kept silence; thou 
thoughtest that I was altogether such an one as 
thyself: but I will reprove thee, and set them in 
order before thine eyes. Consider this, ye that 
forget God, lest I tear you in pieces, and there be 
none to deliver. ,, 

The universal conscience of mankind is stricken 
with a sense of guilt. Alarmed by an instinctive 



THE ANGELS' SONG. 445 

sense of danger, men have felt the need of recon- 
ciliation ; and, under a sense of His displeasure, 
have everywhere, and in all ages, sought to make 
their peace with God. For this end altars were 
raised and temples built ; sacrifices offered, and 
penances endured. If the colossal structures of 
Egypt, and the lovely temples of Greece aijd 
Rome, were erected, as well to adorn the state as 
to please the gods, it was less to please approving, 
than to appease angry divinities, that their courts 
resounded with the cries of victims, and smoking 
altars ran red with blood. So much did the 
heathen feel their need of peace, such store did 
they set by it, that many of them sought it at any 
price. They would buy peace at any cost ; nor 
did they shrink from giving all their fortune, even 
the fruit of their body, for the sin of their souls. 
For peace with God the Hindoo walked to his 
distant temples in sandals that, set with spikes, 
pierced his flesh at every step, and marked all the 
long, slow, painful journey with a track of blood ; 
for peace with God the Syrian led his sweet boy 
up to the fires of Moloch, and, unmoved in purpose 
by cries, or curses, or passionate entreaties, cast 
him shrieking on the burning pile ; for peace with 
God the Indian mother approached the river's 
brink with streaming tears and trembling steps, 
and, tearing the suckling from her bursting heart, 
kissed it, to turn away her eyes, and fling it into 
the flood. We pity their ignorance. But how do 
they rebuke the indifference of many ; their un- 
willingness to submit to any sacrifice whatever for 
the honor of Jesus and the interests of their souls ? 
These heathens may pity thousands whom they 



446 THE ANGELS' SONG. 

shall rise up in judgment to condemn. Neglecting 
the great salvation, preferring the pleasures of sin, 
what a contrast do these offer to a poor Hindoo, 
who, hearing a missionary tell of the blood of 
Christ, sprang from the ground, and, loosing his 
bloody sandals, flung them away to exclaim, 
" Now, now I have found what I want 1" 

The peace which he found all men want, 
and shall find in Jesus, if they seek it honestly, 
earnestly. God has no pleasure in the death 
of the wicked. He never had. We pronounce 
him an unnatural father, who, on a breach occurring 
between him and his child, though he is the 
injured and not the injurer, does not long to be 
reconciled — is not the first to make advances and 
overtures of peace. In this feature of the parental 
character God has stamped upon our hearts the 
beautiful image of His own. Yearning over them 
as the kind old man over his wayward prodigal, 
his exiled child, God was willing to receive back 
sinners to His arms ; to reinstate them in His 
family, and restore them to His favor. But how 
was this to be done ? — done without dishonor to 
His holy law, and with due regard to His character 
as a God of truth. He had said, " The soul that 
sinneth shall die ;" nor could peace be restored 
between Him and man but on such terms as main- 
tained His truth. A father or mother punishes 
one child, and allows another, guilty of the same 
offence, to go free. But had God cast fallen angels 
into hell, and, without any regard to His word, 
admitted fallen men to heaven, what had angels, 
what had devils, what had men themselves thought 
of a God who conducted His government with such 



the angels' song. 447 

caprice — playing fast and loose with His most 
solemn words " The way of the Lord," said 
ancient Israel, "is not equal ;" and in such a case 
there had been ground for the charge, and none 
for the indignation with which He repels it, saying, 
" Hear now, O Israel, is not my way equal ? are 
not yours unequal ?" 

There was only one way of restoring peace ; 
but it involved a sacrifice on God's part which the 
most sanguine had never dared to hope for. If the 
Lord of heaven and earth, veiling His glory, would 
assume our nature, would take the form of a 
servant, would stoop to the work of a subject, 
would die the death of a sinner, we might be saved 
— not otherwise ; if He would leave heaven, we 
might enter it — not otherwise ; if He would die, 
we might live — not otherwise ; if He would enter 
the grave its captor, we might leave it its con- 
querors — not otherwise ; If He, as our substitute, 
would fulfil the requirements of the law, both in 
doing our work and discharging our debt, both 
obeying and suffering in our stead, peace could be 
restored — not otherwise. For these ends God did 
not spare His Son, but gave Him up to death, 
" that whosoever believeth in him might not 
perish, but have everlasting life ;" and the " set 
time " having come at length, Jesus descended on 
our world, to make peace through the blood of 
His cross — His angel train, ere they returned to 
heaven, holding a concert in the skies. 

Dying, the Just for the unjust, He has made 
peace ; and these are the easy terms, " Believe on 
the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved." 
How gladly should we accept them ? If men 



448 THE ANGELS' SONG. 

reject peace, what chance for them in war ? " Hast 
thou an arm like God ? Canst thou thunder with 
a voice like him ?" " Let the potsherds strive with 
the potsherds of the earth ; but woe to the man 
who striveth with his Maker !" He has proclaimed 
a truce — granting a suspension of arms and offer- 
ing most generous proposals of peace. How should 
men improve the pause, and accept the overtures ! 
— as eagerly seizing salvation through the cross 
of Christ as a drowning man life through the rope 
some kind hand flings within his reach. In warfare 
patriots have stood up gallantly against over- 
whelming odds, and, closing their broken ranks, 
have said, " Better fall on the field, better lose 
life than honor ;" but when sinners, dropping the 
weapons of rebellion, yield themselves up to God, 
honor is not lost, but won, in a crown that fadcth 
not away. Brave men have said, " Better fight to 
the last, die with our swords in our hands, than 
become captives to pine away a weary, ignoble 
life within the walls of a prison ;" but when the 
sinner gives himself up to God, he goes not to 
exile but home ; not to chains and a dungeon, but 
to glorious freedom, a palace, and a throne. God 
asks you to give up your sins that they, not you, 
may be slain. It is of them, not of you, He says, 
" But those mine enemies which would not that 
I should reign over them, bring hither, and slay 
them before me !" 

In these circumstances, oh, for the wisdom of her 
who showed herself on the city walls in the thick 
of the assault, crying to Joab, " Hear, hear, come 
near hither, I pray you, that I may speak with 
thee !" A woman's figure there, her voice sound- 



THE ANGELS* SONG. 445 

ing above the thunder of the captains and the 
shouting, suspends the attack. Assailants and 
assailed alike rest on their arms ; and as one 
marked as a leader by his plume and bearing, cov- 
ered v/ith the dust and blood of battle, steps 
forward, she bends over the battlements to ask, 
" Art thou Joab ?" " I am he," is the reply. 
" Then hear the words of thy handmaid," she cries; 
<4 I am one of them that are peaceable and faithful 
in Israel : thou seekest to destroy a city and a 
mother in Israel !" He solemnly repudiates the 
charge. " Far be it from me," he answers, " that 1 
should swallow up and destroy. The matter is not 
so : but a man of Mount Ephraim, Sheba, the son 
of Bichri, hath lifted up his hand against the king, 
against David : deliver him only, and I will depart 
from the city." She accepts the terms ; and say- 
ing, " Behold, his head shall be thrown to thee 
over the wall" — vanishes. Prompt in action as 
wise in counsel, she goes to the people, deals with 
them, sways the multitude to her will ; and ere 
the last hour of the brief truce has closed, a bloody 
head goes bounding over the waM. It rolls like 
a ball to the feet of Joab ; and in its grim and 
ghastly features they recognize the face of the son 
of Bichri. So Joab blows the trumpet, and the 
host retires from the walls, every man to his own 
tent. So let men deal with their sins. Let them 
die with the son of Bichri : they have " lifted up 
their hand against the King." Why should we 
spare them, and lose our souls ? By His precious 
blood Jesus has opened up a way to peace. He 
has come, but not to swallow up and destroy." 
Blessed Lord, He came to save, not to destroy. 



450 THE ANGELS' SONG. 

" O earth, earth, earth," cried the prophet, "heal 
the word of the Lord ;" and be it known to the 
world's utmost bounds that God willeth not the 
death of the sinner, but rather that he would turn 
to Him and live. With her flaming sword, red 
with the blood of men and angels, Justice holds to 
us no other language but that of Joab, " Deliver up 
your sins only, and I will depart !" and, inspired of 
God with the wisdom that chooseth the better 
part, and maketh wise unto salvation, let us say, 
" Better my sins die than I ; better Satan be cast, 
than Jesus be kept out of it ; better strike off the 
heads of a thousand sins that have lifted up their 
hands against the King, than that I should fall — 
sparing my sins to lose my soul I" 



THE ANGELS' SONG. 451 



PART Y. 

AHAB and Jezebel, two of the worst character* 
in sacred story, had a son ; and with such blood as 
theirs in his veins, no wonder that Joram, on suc- 
ceeding to the throne of one parent, exhibited the 
vices of both. His mother does not seem to have 
had a drop of human-kindness in her breast. Yet 
he was not altogether dead to humanity, as ap- 
pears by an incident which occurred during the 
siege that reduced his capital to the direst extremi- 
ties. The ghastly aspect of a famished woman 
who throws herself in his way with a wild, impas- 
sioned, wailing cry, of " Help, my lord, O King !" 
touches him ; and he asks, " What aileth thee ?" 
Stretching out a skinny arm to one pale and 
haggard as herself, she replies, with hollow voice, 
"This woman said unto me, Give thy son, that we 
may eat him to-day, and w r e will eat my son 
to-morrow. So we boiled my son, and did eat 
him : and I said unto her on the next day, Give 
thy son, that we may eat him ; and she hath hid 
her son." Struck with horror at the story, Joram 
rent his clothes. He had pity, but no piety. 

" Why should ye be stricken any more ? ye will 
but revolt more and more." Never were these 
words, never was the fact that unsanctified afflic- 
tions have the same hardening effect on men 
which fire, that melts gold, has on clay, more 



452 THE ANGELS* SONG. 

strikingly illustrated than on this occasion. So 
far from rending his heart with his garment, and 
humbling himself before the Lord, Joram flares up 
into fiercer rebellion ; and turning from these 
victims of the famine to his courtiers, he grinds his 
teeth to profane God's name and vow vengeance 
on hi6 prophet, saying, " God do so and more also 
to me, if the head of Elisha the son of Shaphat 
shall stand on him this day." Impotent rage 
against the only man who couid have weathered 
the storm, and saved the state ! The prophet's 
head stood on his shoulders when that of this 
son of a murderer — as Elisha called him — lay low 
in death in the dust of Naboth's vineyard. The 
day arrives which sees the cup of Joram's iniquity 
full, and that of God's patience empty — drained to 
the last drop. The chief officers of the army are 
sitting outside their barrack, when one wearing a 
prophet's livery approaches them. Singling out 
Jehu from the group, he says, I have an errand to 
thee, O captain ! The captain rises ; they pass in 
alone ; the door is shut ; and now this strange, 
unknown man, drawing a horn of oil from his 
shaggy cloak, pours it on Jehu's head. As if it 
had fallen on fire, it kindled up his smouldering 
ambition — so soon at least as this speech inter- 
preted the act, " Thus saith the Lord God of Israel, 
I have anointed thee king over the people of this 
land. Thou shalt smite the house of Ahab thy 
master ; dogs shall eat Jezebel in the portion of 
Jezreel, and there shall be none to bury her." 
Having spoken so, the stranger opens the door, 
and flies. But faster flies God's venegance. Ere 
his feet have borne the servant to Elisha's door, 



THE ANGELS' SONG. 453 

the banner of revolt is up, unfurled ; troops are 
gathering to the sound of trumpets ; and soldiers, 
eager for change and plunder, are making the air 
ring to the cry, Jehu is king ! 

Launched like a thunderbolt at the house of 
Ahab, Jehu makes right for Jezreel with impetuous, 
impatient speed. A watchman on the palace 
tower catches afar the dust of the advancing caval- 
cade, and cries, I see a company ! Guilt, which 
sleeps uneasy even on downy pillows, awakens, on 
the circumstance being reported to him, the 
monarch's fears. A horseman is quickly despatched 
with the question, Is it peace ? Thus, pulling up 
his steed, he accosts the leader of the company, 
who, drawing no rein, replies, in a tone neither to 
be challenged nor disobeyed, What hast thou to 
do with peace ? Get thee behind me ! Failing the 
first's return, a second horseman gallops forth to 
carry the same question and meet the same recep- 
tion. Sweeping on like a hurricane, the band is 
now near enough for the watchman to tell, " He 
came near unto them, and cometh not again ;" and 
also to add, as he marks how their leader is shaking 
the reins and lashing the steeds of his bounding 
chariot, " The driving is like the driving of Jehu, 
the son of Nimshi ; for he driveth furiously." 
Displaying a courage that seemed his only redeem- 
ing quality, or bereaved of sense, according to the 
saying, Whom God intends to destroy He first 
makes mad, Joram instantly throws himself into 
his chariot, advances to meet the band, and de- 
mands of its leader, " Is it peace, Jehu ?" " What 
peace," is the other's answer, " so long as the whore- 
doms of thy mother and her witchcrafts are so 



454 THE ANGELS* SONG. 

many ?" With the words that leave his lips an 
arrow leaves his bow to transfix the flying king — 
entering in at his back and passing out at his breast ; 
and when he is cast, a bloody corpse, into Naboth's 
vineyard, and dogs are crunching his mother's 
bones, and Jehu has climbed the throne, and 
Elisha walks abroad with his head safe on his shoul- 
ders, and the curtain falls on the stage of these 
tragic and righteous scenes, it was a time for 
the few pious men of that guilty land to sing, 
" Lo thine enemies, O Lord, lo thine enemies 
shall perish ; but the righteous shall flourish like 
the palm-tree : they shall grow like a cedar of 
Lebanon." 

Such was the mission of Jehu, the son of Nimshi. 
How different that of Jesus, the Son of God ! They 
might have been identical ; presented at least 
grounds of comparison rather than grounds of 
striking contrast. Yet so remarkable is the con- 
trast, that Jehu's mission — and therefore have we 
related the story — forms as effective a background 
to Christ's, as the black rain-cloud to the bright 
bow which spans it. The cause of the difference 
lies in God's free, gracious, sovereign mercy — in 
nothing else ; for had mankind, at the tidings that 
the Son of God, attended by a train of holy angels, 
was approaching, met Him on the confines of our 
world with Joram's question, "Is it peace?" that 
question might justly have met with Jehu's answer, 
" What hast thou to do with peace ?" — what have 
you done to obtain it, or to deserve it ! Yet, glory 
be to God in the highest, it is peace — peace more 
plainly and fully announced in these most gracious 



THE ANGELS* SdNG 455 

words, " It pleased the Father that in him should 
all fulness dwell ; and, having made peace through 
the blood of his cross, by h::n to reconcile all 
things to'himself, whether they be things on earth, 
or things in heaven." 



4$6 THE ANGELS' SONG. 



IX. 

Jesus brings peace to the soul. 

HAVING reconciled us to God by the blood of 
His cross, Christ is " our Peace," as the apostle 
says. He is called so, first, because He restores 
us to a state of friendship with God ; and, secondly, 
because a sense of that fills the whole soul with a 
peace which passeth understanding. So, speak- 
ing of the righteousness which Christ wrought out 
for us, the prophet says, " The work of righteous- 
ness is peace " — His righteousness being the root, 
and our peace the fruit — that the spring, and this 
the stream. To describe for the comfort of the 
Church the constancy of the last and the fulness 
of the first, another prophet borrows two of nature's 
grandest images, " Thy peace shall be like a river, 
and thy righteousness like the waves of the sea " — 
the believer's peace flowing like a broad, deep 
stream, with life in its waters and smiling verdure 
on its banks ; and a Saviour's righteousness cover- 
ing all his sins, as the waves do the countless 
sands of their shore, when, burying them out of 
sight, the tide converts the whole reach of dull, 
dreary sand into a broad liquid mirror, to reflect 
the light of the sky and the beams of the sun. 

Christ's imputed righteousness is bestowed equally 
on all believers — none, the least any more than the 



THE ANGELS' SONG. 457 

greatest sinner, being more justified than another, 
Feeling assured or not of their salvation, all His are 
equally safe — " those whom Thou hast given me I 
have kept, and none of them are lost." There is no 
such equal enjoyment among believers of peace in 
believing ; some walking all their days under a 
cloud, and some who walk in darkness and have no 
light, only reaching heaven, like a blind man guided 
homewards by the hand of his child, by their hold 
of the promise, " Who is he that feareth the Lord and 
obeyeth the voice of His servant, that walketh in 
darkness and hath no light ; let him trust in the 
name of the Lord, and stay himself in his God." 
But where there is peace springing from a sense of 
forgiveness, of all the fruits of the Spirit that grow 
in Christ's fair garden, this is sweetest. Among 
the blessings enjoyed on earth, it has no superior, 
or rival even. It passeth understanding, says an 
apostle. Nor did David regard any as happy but 
those who enjoyed it — pronouncing " blessed," not 
the great, or rich, or noble, or famous, but u the 
man," whatever his condition, " whose transgression 
is forgiven, whose sin is covered." And so he might. 
With this peace the believer regards death as the 
gate of life : enters the grave as a quiet anchorage 
from seas and storms ; and looks forward to the 
scene of final judgment as a prince to his coronation, 
or a happy bride to her marriage day. A sense of 
forgiveness lays the sick head on a pillow softer 
than downs ; lightens sorrow's heaviest burdens : 
makes poverty rich beyond the wealth of banks ; 
spoils death of his sting ; arms the child of God 
against the ills of life ; and, lifting him up above its 
trials, makes him like some lofty mountain, at whose 



458 THE ANGELS* SONG. 

feet the lake may be lashed into foaming billows, 
and adown whose seamed and rugged sides clouds 
may fall in gloomy folds, but whose head, shooting 
up into the calm blue heavens, reposes in unbroken 
peace, rejoices in perpetual sunshine. 

Happy such as obtain a firm hold of Christ, and, 
having made their calling and election sure, enjoy 
unclouded peace ! Feeling that there is now no 
more condemnation for them, because they believe 
in Jesus, and walk not after the flesh but after the 
spirit, they see a change come on objects such as 
imparts pleasure and surprise in what are called 
dissolving views. Where death, with grim and 
grisly aspect, stood by the mouth of an open grave, 
shaking his fatal dart, we see an angel form opening 
with one hand the gate of heaven, and holding in 
the other a shining crown — from the face of God 
we see the features of an angry, stern, inexorable 
judge melt all away, and in room of an object of 
terror we behold the face and form of a kind, loving, 
forgiving Father, with open arms hastening to 
embrace us. The God of hope give you joy and 
peace in believing, is the prayer of the apostle — a 
prayer in many cases so fully answered that the 
dying saint has been borne away from all his earthly 
moorings ; and, ready to part from wife and chil- 
dren, has exclaimed with Simeon when he held the 
infant Saviour in his joyful arms, "Now, Lord, 
lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine 
eyes have seen thy salvation." 

" Be at peace among yourselves," is a blessed 
injunction which an apostle lays on families, on 
friends, and on churches. In happy contrast to the 
storm which, hurtling through the troubled air, and 



THE ANGELS' SONG. 459 

shaking doors and windows, goes raving round 
every corner of the house, let peace reign on the 
domestic hearth, and also within the church, when, 
like the ark of old, she drifts on the billows of a 
shoreless sea — God only at the helm. 

It is good to be at peace with our brethren, but 
to be at peace with one's-self is better. At peace 
with conscience, one can afford, if God will have it 
so, to be at war with all men. It is painful, when 
we cannot be at peace with all men — to have ene- 
mies without ; but his case is infinitely worse who 
lodges an enemy in his own breast — in a guilty, 
uneasy conscience, in self-reproaches, in terror of 
death, in the knowledge that God and he are not 
friends, nor can be so, so long as he cherishes his 
sins. There is no peace, saith my God, to the 
wicked. There cannot be. Drugged with nar- 
cotics you may sleep as quietly on a bed of thorns 
as of roses. Drugged with narcotics, you may lie 
down on the cold pavement, and fancy as you throw 
your arms around the curbstone that it is the wife 
of your bosom. Drugged with narcotics you may 
go to sleep in a cell with visions of home playing 
round the head that shall be capped for hanging 
to-morrow. But no more than I call these peace- 
ful sights, can I apply the name of peace to the 
insensibility of a conscience seared by sin ; to the 
calmness or rather callousness of one who has 
allowed the devil to persuade him that God is too 
merciful to reckon with us for our transgressions. 
The peace we are to seek, and, seeking to pursue, 
is not of death, but life, — not that the lake pre- 
sents in winter, when no life appears on its shores, 
nor sound breaks the silence of its frozen waters ; 



460 THE ANGELS' SONG. 

but that of a lake which, protected from tempests 
by lofty mountains, carries life in its waters, beauty 
on its banks, and heaven mirrored in its unruffled 
bosom. Being justified by faith we have peace with 
God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Such is the 
peace which we are to seek — a peace which, 
springing from a sense of reconciliation through the 
blood of the Lamb and wrought within the soul by 
the in-dwelling of the Holy Spirit, has so raised the 
saint above all fears of death, and shed such a 
flood of glory around his dying head, that wicked 
men have turned from the scene to exclaim, May I 
die the death of the righteous, and may my last end 
be like his 1 



THE ANGELS' SONG. 46 1 



JESUS SHALL BRING PEACE TO THE WORLD. 

HOW many pages of history are written with 
the point of the sword — not with ink, but tears 
and blood ? It is chiefly taken up with the re- 
cital of wars. What age has not been the era, 
what country the scene of bloody strifes ? What 
soil does not hold the dust of thousands that have 
fallen by brothers' hands ? Our glebes have been 
fattened with the bodies of the slain ? On those 
fields where, with the lark carolling overhead, the 
peasant drives his ploughshare, other steel than 
the sickle has glanced, and other shouts have risen 
than those of happy reapers bearing some blush- 
ing, sun-browned maid on their broad shoulders at 
the Harvest Home. The tall gray stones, the 
hoary cairns, tell how on other days these quiet 
scenes were disturbed by the roar of battle, and 
lay red with another dye than that of heath or 
purple wild flowers. Go wherever our foot may 
wander, we find tokens of war ; and select what 
age soever we may, since Abel fell beneath a 
brother's hand, we find in man's first death, and 
the earth's first long grave, a bloody omen of 
future and frequent crimes. What a commentary is 
human history on these words of Holy Scripture, 
" The whole creation groaneth, and travaileth in 
pain till now ! — nor shall it cease to groan, or hail 



462 THE ANGELS' SONG. 

the day of its redemption, till the Prince of Peace 
is enthroned in the heart of all nations, and the 
labors of missionaries have extended that king- 
dom to the ends of the earth, whose triumphs are 
bloodless — whose walls are Salvation and her 
gates Praise." 

Without disparagement to the happy influence 
of education, the extension of commerce, and the 
efforts of benevolent men, the real Peace Society 
is the Church of God ; the olive branch which the 
Spirit, dove-like, is bearing on blessed wing to a 
troubled world, is the Word of God ; and the 
gospel's is the voice which, like Christ's on Galilee's 
waves, shall speak peace to a distracted earth, and 
change its wildest passions into a holy calm. Till 
all nations receive the Bible in its integrity and 
own it as their only rule of policy, till kings reign 
for Christ and lay their crowns at His feet, a last- 
ing peace is an idle dream. Treaties will no more 
bind nations that lie under the influence of unsanc- 
tified passions, than chains him who dwelt among 
the tombs, and within whom dwelt a legion of 
devils. Till other and better days come, the best 
cemented peace is only a pause — a truce— an 
armistice ; the breathing-time of exhausted com- 
batants. Alas, that it should be so : yet true it is, 
that that nation dooms itself to disaster, if not 
destruction, which, pursuing only the arts of peace, 
leaves its swords to rust, and its navies to rot, and 
forts with empty embrasures to moulder into 
ruins. The trumpet of the world's Jubilee has not 
yet sounded, nor have all the vials of the Apoca- 
lypse been emptied of the wrath of God. And 
so, till the nations have emerged from spiritual 



THE ANGELS' SONG. 463 

darkness ; till God's Word is an open book, and 
duly honored in all lands ; till immorality has 
ceased to weaken the bonds of social happiness, 
discontent to rankle in the bosom of the people, 
and ambition to fire the breasts of kings, the 
world may expect ever and anon to hear the voice 
of Joel sounding out this trumpet call, "Prepare 
ye war ; wake up the mighty men ; let all the men 
of war draw near— beat your ploughshares into 
swords and your pruning-hooks into spears — put 
ye in the sickle, for the harvest is ripe." 

Better days are coming — some think near at 
hand. Turning a seer's eye on futurity, Isaiah 
descried them in the far distance — saw the reign 
of the Prince of Peace — Jesus crowned King of 
kings and Lord of lords — swords beaten into 
plough-shares and spears into pruning-hooks — 
every man, whether at hall or cottage door, sitting 
under the shade of his vine and fig-tree — the whole 
earth quiet, and at rest. And glad is the Church 
as, weary of strife and sin and sorrow, she looks 
up into the darksome sky, and cries, Watchman, 
what of the night ? to get a hopeful response, — to 
catch any sign, in break, or blush, or gray gleam 
however feeble, that seems to reply, The morning 
cometh ! Come, blessed morn, come, Prince of 
Peace— come, Lord Jesus — come quickly ! Let 
wars cease unto the ends of the earth ! Scatter 
Thou the people that delight in war. 

The vision tarries, but come it shall. In answer 
to the cry of blood that rises to heaven with 
a different voice from that of Abel's, peace shall 
reign and wars shall cease. By the hands that 
men nailed to a cross God will break the bow, the 



464 THE ANGELS' SONG. 

battle, and the spear — burning the chariot in the 
fire. And though any peace which our age may 
enjoy should be only a breathing-time, but a 
pause in the roar of the bloody tempest, let us im- 
prove it to remedy all wrongs at home ; to educate 
our ignorant and neglected masses ; to eradicate 
the vices that disgrace and degrade our nation ; to 
build up the Church wherever it lies in ruins ; to 
extend not so much Britain's empire as Christ's 
kingdom abroad, and so hasten forward the happy 
time when the Song of the Angels shall be echoed 
from evexy land, and the voices of the skies of 
Bethlehem shall be lost in the grander, fuller, 
nobler chorus of all nations, singing, Glory to God 
in the highest, peace on earth, good will toward 
men 1 



THE ANGELS' SONG. 465 



PART VL 

THOUGH the last to be dropped into its place ; 
the keystone is of all the stones of an arch the first 
in importance ; the others span no flood, carry nc 
weight, are of no value, without it. It gives unity 
to the separate parts, and locking all together, 
makes them one. Of such consequence to the 
other parts of the Angels' Song is its last clause. 
It was not simply Glory to God, nor peace on 
earth, but good will toward men, which made the 
angels messengers of mercy, and the news they 
brought tidings of great joy. Glory to God ! 
Amid the rush of the waters that drowned the 
world, and the roar of the flames that laid Sodom 
in ashes, they sang glory to God. God is glorious 
in acts of judgment as well as in acts of mercy — 
" the God of Glory thundereth." So on shores 
strewn with the corpses of the dead, beside a sea 
which opened its gates for the escape of Israel and 
closed them on Egypt, burying king and bannered 
host beneath its whirling waves, Moses and Miriam 
cried, Sing ye to the Lord, for He hath triumphed 
gloriously ; the horse and his rider hath He cast 
into the sea ! Then the deep lifted up its voice, 
and all the waves of the sea sang Glory to God ! 
as, bearing the dead in on their foaming crests, 
they laid them at Moses' feet. And when that 
judgment comes to which these are but as the big 

80 



466 THE ANGELS' SONG. 

drops that prepare us for a burst of thunder and 
the rushing rain, when the great white throne is 
set, and the books are opened, and the Judge rises 
in awful majesty to pronounce words of doom, 
the voices of ten times ten thousand saints shall 
add, Amen ; and in an outburst of praise that 
drowns the wail of the lost, the whole host of 
angels shall sing, Glory to God ! With such 
ascription of praise Christ's heralds would have 
announced His advent, had He come not to save, 
but to destroy. 

" Glory to God," the first clause of this song, does 
not, therefore, necessarily involve good will towards 
men ; and no more does the second, " peace on 
earth." Peace ! Peace was in the valley where 
the prophet stood with the grim wrecks of war 
around him, — friend and foe sleeping side by side, 
skeletons silently turning to dust, and swords to 
rust. Peace is in the battle-field when the last 
gun is fired, and, the last of the dying having 
groaned out his soul in a gush of blood, the heaving 
mass is still. Peace was on the sea and the storm 
suddenly became a calm, when the waves leaping 
up against the flying ship obtained their prey, and 
from the deck where he stood summoned by the 
voice, Arise, O thou that sleepest, and call upon 
thy God, Jonah was flung into the jaws of death. 
Peace was in that land he had ravaged of whom 
men said, " He made a solitude, and called it 
peace," — all its homesteads lay in ashes, and its 
cities stood in silent ruins. Peace was in Israel, 
when, provoked by their sins, God cast His people 
out : swept them all into captivity. The land had 
its Sabbaths then. The Angels' Song might have 



THE ANGELS' SONG. 46; 

announced a similar, but greater, judgment — that, 
as a landlord clears his estate of turbulent, lawless, 
bankrupt tenants, God, who had repented long 
ago that He had made man, was at length coming 
to clear the earth of his guilty presence, and make 
room for better tenants ; a purer, holier race. It 
is the last clause of this hymn, therefore, tha* 
gives it an aspect of mercy — the revenue of glory 
which God was to receive, and the peace which 
earth was to enjoy, flowing from that fountain of 
redeeming love w T hich had its spring in God's good 
will. Of this, Christ was the divine expression, 
and angels were the happy messengers. 

Happy messengers indeed ! No wonder they 
hastened their flight to earth, and having an- 
nounced the good tidings, lingered over the fields 
of Bethlehem, singing as they hovered on the 
wing. To announce bad news is the unenviable 
office often imposed on ministers of the gospel ; 
and recollecting with what slow, reluctant steps 
my feet approached the house where I had to 
break to a mother the tidings of a wreck, and how 
her sailor boy with all hands had perished ; or, in 
the news of a husband's sudden death, I had 
to plant a dagger in the heart of a young, bright, 
happy wife, I never have read the story of Absa- 
lom's tragic end, without wondering at the race 
between Ahimaaz and Cushi who should first carry 
the tidings to David. It had been easier, I think, 
to look the foe in the face and hear the roar 
of battle than see the old man's grief, and hear 
that heart-broken cry, " O Absalom, my son, my 
son Absalom, would God I had died for thee, O 
Absalom, my son, my son !" I can enter into the 



468 THE ANGELS' SONG. 

feelings of the two Marys, when, to quote the 
words of Holy Scripture, " they departed quickly 
from the sepulchre with fear and great joy, and did 
run to bring the disciples word." I see them, as, 
regardless of appearances, and saluting no one, 
they press on, along the road, through the streets, 
with panting breath and gleaming eye and stream- 
ing hair and flying feet, striving who shall be first 
to proclaim the resurrection, and burst in on the 
disciples with the glad tidings, crying, " The Lord 
is risen !" Teaching the Churches how to strive, 
their only rivalry who shall first carry the tidings 
of salvation to heathen lands, I dare to say those 
holy women never took such bounding steps, nor 
sped on their way with such haste before. And 
never, I fancy, did angels leave the gates of heaven 
so fast behind them, pass suns and stars in down- 
ward flight on such rapid wing, as when they 
hasted to earth with the tidings of great joy. May 
we be as eager to accept salvation as they were to 
announce it ! May the love of God find a respon- 
sive echo within our bosoms ! Would that our 
wishes for His glory corresponded to His for our 
good, and that His good will toward us awoke a 
corresponding good will toward Him — felt in hearts 
glowing with zeal for Christ's cause, and expressed 
in lives wholly consecrated to His service. 

In studying this, we shall now consider the 
persons to whom good will is expressed. 



THE iNGELS' SONG. 469 



XI. 

THE PERSONS TO WHOM GOOD WILL IS EX- 
PRESSED. 

It is expressed to men — to all men ; so that if 
we are finally lost, the blame as well as the bane 
is ours. God has no ill will to us, or to any. He 
has no pleasure in the death of the wicked ; nor is 
He willing that any should perish, but that all 
should come to Him, and live. His good will 
embraces the world. 

" When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy 
fingers, the moon and the stars which thou hast 
ordained ; what is man, that thou art mindful of 
him ? and the Son of man, that thou visitest him ?" 
So said the royal psalmist. And, in a sense, time 
should only have deepened the astonishment which 
this question expresses. For man's ideas of the 
magnificence of the heavens have grown with the 
course of ages ; and though the stars in the 
transparent atmosphere of Palestine shone with a 
brilliancy unknown to us, our conceptions of the 
heavens are grander and more true than David's — 
thanks to the discoveries of modern science. As 
navigators, so soon as by help of the mariner's 
compass they could push their bold prows into 
untravelled seas, were ever adding new continents 
to the land and new islands to the ocean, so since 



470 THE ANGELS' SONG. 

the invention of the telescope, science has been 
discovering new stars in the heavens ; filling up 
their empty spaces with stellar systems, and vastly 
enlarging the limits of creation. And since every 
new orb has added to the lustre of Jehovah's glory, 
another world to His kingdom, another jewel to 
His crown, these discoveries, by exalting God stil! 
higher, have added point and power to the old 
question, "What is man, that thou art mindful of 
him ? and the Son of man, that thou visitest him ?'• 
Yet, apart from man's sinfulness, I cannot feel 
that he is beneath the regards of the Maker and 
Monarch of the starry heavens. I can fancy that 
an earthly sovereign who, dwelling apart from his 
people, is jealous of their intrusion within his palace 
gates, and sits enthroned amid an exclusive though 
brilliant circle of proud and powerful barons, may 
neither know nor care about the fortunes of lowly 
cottagers ; but there could be no greater mistake 
than out of such a man's character to weave our 
conceptions of God, or fancy that because we are 
infinitely beneath His rank, we are therefore be- 
neath His notice. A glance at the meanest of 
His creatures refutes and rebukes the unworthy 
thought. It needs no angels from heaven to in- 
form us that God cherishes good will to all the 
creatures of His hand, nor deems the least of them 
beneath His kind regards. Look at bird, or but- 
terfly, or beetle ! Observe the lavish beauty that 
adorns His creatures, the bounty that supplies 
their wants, the care taken of their lives, the hap- 
piness, expressed in songs or merry gambols or 
mazy dances, which He has poured into their 
hearts. The whole earth is full of the glory of 



THE ANGELS' SONG. 47 1 

God's infinite benignity and good will. Insignifi- 
cant as I — a speck on earth, and earth itself but a 
speck in creation — seem to myself when, standing 
below the starry vault, I look up into the heavens, 
yet, apart from the thought that I am a sinner, I 
cannot say, What is man, that Thou art mindful of 
him ? How can I, when I see Him mindful of the 
brood that sleep in their rocking nest, of the moth 
that flits by my face on muffled wing, of the fox 
that howls on the hill, of the owl that hoots to 
the pale moon from ivy tower or hollow tree ? 
Are you not of more value than many sparrows ? 
said our Lord. Fashioned originally after the 
divine image, with a soul outweighing in value the 
rude matter of a thousand worlds, able to rise on 
the wings of contemplation above the highest stars 
and hold communion with God himself, man, apart 
from his sinfulness, was every way worthy of divine 
good will ; that God should be mindful of him. 

But we are sinners — sinners by nature as well as 
practice ; polluted ; unholy ; so unclean that our 
emblem is that hideous form which, from the crown 
of the head to the soles of the feet, is wounds and 
bruises and putrifying sores ; and the news that 
God cherishes good will to such guilty creatures 
may well evoke the old, wondering cry, Hear, O 
heavens ; be astonished, O earth ! On recalling 
the happy days of early life, when., a child, he lay 
in his father's arms ; a boy, he s-at on his knee ; a 
youth, he walked by his side — the tears that at 
parting streamed over the old man's cheeks — his 
kind counsels, his tender warnings, his warm kisses, 
and how he had stood and watched his departing 
steps till the brow of a hill or a turn of the road 



472 THE ANGELS' SONG. 

hid him from view, the poor prodigal ventured tc 
hope that his father would not turn him from his 
door ; for the sake of the past and of his mother in 
the grave, would grant him at least a servant's 
place. Weighed down by a sense of guilt, his 
hopes rose to no higher flight — expected nothing 
beyond a menial's office. To be received with 
open arms, to be welcomed back again like some 
youth who has gone abroad to win a fortune or be 
crowned with laurels — that his should be the fair- 
est robe, the finest ring, the fatted calf — that in- 
stead of stealing in under the cloud of night to be 
concealed from strangers' eyes, the old house on 
his return should ring to the sound of music, and 
floors should shake to the dancers' feet, and the 
whole neighborhood should be called to rejoice 
with a father whose shame and sorrow he had 
been, was a turn of fortune he never dreamt of ; 
never dared to hope for. On the part of that 
loving, forgiving father, what amazing good will ! 
But how much more amazing this which God pro- 
claimed by the lips of angels, and proved by the 
death of His beloved Son ! 

I have known fathers and mothers who were 
sorely tried by wayward, wicked children — I have 
seen their gray hairs go down with sorrow to the 
grave. With hearts bleeding under wounds from 
the hands of one they loved, I have seen them 
welcofne the grave ; saying as they descended 
into its quiet rest, " the days of my mourning are 
ended." It is a horrid crime to wring tears from 
such eyes, to crush such hearts : but was ever 
patient, hoping, loving parent tried as we have 
tried our Father in heaven ? Not without reason 



THE ANGELS' SONG. 473 

does He ask, " If I be a father, where is mine 
honor ? if I be a master, where is my fear ?" And 
who that thinks of his sins, their guilt, their num- 
ber, and, as committed against infinite love and 
tender mercy, their unspeakable atrocity, but will 
acknowledge the truth of these words, " Because I 
am God, and not man, therefore the children of 
men are not consumed " — just as it is because the 
ship rides by a cable, and not a cobweb, that, 
when sails are rent, and yards are gone, and 
breakers are foaming on the reef, she mounts the 
billows and survives the storm. That we are not 
suffering the pains of hell, that we have hopes of 
heaven and ever shall be there, we owe not to our 
good works, but to God's good will ; to that only. 
Till converted, man does not desire this good 
will ; and never deserves it. We have no claim to 
it whatever. It is " not by works of righteousness 
which we have done, but according to His mercy 
God saves us, by the washing of regeneration and 
the renewing of the Holy Ghost " — therefore His 
good will has no root in any good works of ours. 
A sacred mystery, we may apply to it the words 
which Job, contemplating the grand mysteries of 
nature, applied to our earth when, seeing this great 
globe floating in ethereal space, sustained by no 
pillars, nor suspended by any chain that linked it 
to the skies, he said, Thou hast hung it upon 
nothing 1 



474 THE ANGELS' SONG, 



XII. 

THE PERSON WHO EXPRESSES "GOOD WILL." 

The person is God — He who spake by holy men 
of old, speaking here by the lips of angels. Where 
there is a will, there is a way, is a brave and ad- 
mirable proverb. Yet, though comparatively true 
in most cases, to some it is altogether inapplicable. 
Look, for example, at the women who, when the 
men had turned cowards, boldly follow our Lord to 
Calvary, bewailing and lamenting Him ! What 
tears they shed, what a wail they raise, when the 
door opens, and, surrounded by armed guards, 
Jesus comes forth from the Judgment Hall, bleed- 
ing, bound, crowned with thorns. When He sank 
down on the street under the weight of the cross, 
and His blessed head lay low in the dust, had 
there been a chance of saving Him, how had they 
rushed to His help ; and, giving their naked 
breasts to the Roman spears, burst through the 
circle to rescue Him ; to die with Him rather than 
desert Him. But they were helpless. Their good 
will availed the loved object nothing — beyond this, 
that the sympathy flowing in their tears and 
expressed in their looks, somewhat soothed the 
sorrows of His heart, and fell like balm drops on 
His smarting wounds. 

Again, what good will did David bear to Jona* 



THE ANGELS' SONG. 475 

than ! Did Jonathan love David as his own soul ? 
and under circumstances calculated to dissolve all 
common friendships, and work such change on the 
heart as wine suffers when it turns into vinegar, 
did Jonathan's sentiments continue unchanged, his 
affection unabated to the last ? His love was 
strong as death ; many waters could not quench it. 
But it was amply requited. David proved that 
with his harp ; had he been present on that fatal 
field where the bow of Jonathan was broken, he 
had proved it with his sword. With what a lion 
spring had he answered Jonathan's cry for help; 
how had he bestrode his fallen friend, covering him 
with his battered shield ; mowing a way through 
the ranks of the Philistines, how had he borne him, 
off to a place of safety, or falling in the attempt, 
left others to compose their elegy, and sing, They 
were pleasant in their lives, and in death they were 
not divided ! God is a very present help in time of 
trouble ; but there was no help for Jonathan in 
David. Far away from that bloody field, his 
good will availed Jonathan nothing — beyond em- 
balming his rare virtues in immortal song, and 
in an imperishable lament raising an imperish- 
able monument to the memory of a man whose 
love to him was wonderful, passing the love of 
women. 

Again, what good will in his father's heart to 
Esau ? But the old man's hands are tied. Fresh 
from the chase, and ignorant of what has happened 
in his absence, Esau approaches Isaac, saying, Let 
my father arise and eat of his son's vension, that 
thy soul may bless me ! Who art thou ? says the 
blind old man — astonished that any should ask 



476 THE ANGELS* SONG. 

what he has already given away. Recognizing the 
beloved voice which replied, I am thy son, thy 
first-born Esau, and dreading some dire calamity, 
Isaac trembled exceedingly, crying, "Who? 
where is he that hath taken vension and brought it 
me ; and I have eaten of all before thou earnest, 
and have blessed him ? yea, and he shall be 
blessed." By the basest, cruellest fraud, Jacob has 
possessed himself of the blessing ; and if their 
mother, his own partner in guilt, was watching 
the issue of this perfidious plot, how had it pierced 
her heart to hear Esau, when the truth flashed on 
his mind and he saw the treasure stolen, cry, "with 
a great and exceeding bitter cry, Bless me, even 
me also, O my father !" The strong man, the bold 
hardy hunter, lifted up his voice and wept ; seek- 
ing repentance, as the apostle says — to get Isaac 
to undo the deed — with tears, but found it not. 
What availed his father's good will to him, his 
favorite son ? What was done must stand. The 
blessing was gone ; and Isaac, though he had the 
will, had no way to recall it. 

But what need to ransack old history for ex- 
amples ? How often have our hearts overflowed 
with good will, yet we could only weep with them 
that wept — pity sorrows we could not soothe, 
wants we were powerless to relieve? Tears we 
might give, but they could not clothe the naked, or 
feed the hungry, or save the dying, or recall the 
dead, or close the wounds which death had made. 
In dying chambers how are we made painfully, 
bitterly to feel that man's power is not commensu- 
rate with his will ? What good will, what tender 
affection toward some dear, beloved object ! yet, 



THE ANGELS' SONG. 477 

as we hung over the dying couch, all we could do 
was to moisten the speechless lips, to wipe the 
clammy sweat from death's cold brow and watch 
the sinking pulses of life's ebbing tide. What 
would we not have done to meet the wishes of the 
eye that, when speech was gone, turned on us 
imploring, never-to-be-forgotten looks ! Alas, 
our good will availed them nothing ! 

Such recollections, by the contrast which they 
present to God's good will, greatly enhance its 
preciousness. " His favor is life, His loving- 
kindness is better than life." Where God has a 
will, God always has a way. At the throne of 
divine grace, none had ever to shed Esau's tears, 
or cry with him, Hast thou but one blessing, O my 
father ? Our Father in heaven is affluent in bless- 
ings, plenteous in redemption, abundant in goodness 
and in truth. Who ever turned an imploring eye 
on God, and brought to prayer the earnestness of 
him that bends the knee to yon blind old man, but 
became in time the happy object of God's loving, 
saving mercy. Let men trust in the Lord. In the 
name of Christ let them throw themselves on His 
mercy. What though they cannot see it ? It is 
around them, like the invisible but ambient air on 
which the eagle, with an awful gulf below, throws 
herself from her rocky nest in fearless freedom, and 
with expanded wings. So let men, trusting in 
God's faithful word, spread out the wings of faith, 
and cast them on His gcod will. Wrapping the 
world round in an atmosphere of mercy, it shall 
sustain their weight, and bear them aloft, till, 
ascending into the calm regions of Christian hope, 
they bathe their eyes in the beams of the Sun of 



478 THE ANGELS* SON(J. 

Righteousness, and feel their feet firmly planted 
on the Rock of Ages. 

But let one thing be remembered, this, namely, 
that God will not save any against their will, 
Let us therefore seek, and seek till we obtain, a 
change of heart. He draws, not drives — will not 
force any into heaven — nor be served by the hands 
of a slave. If I would not have a sullen, crouching 
slave wait at my table, work in my house, stand 
in my poor presence, much less He who says, 
Give me thy heart, my son ! He makes His 
people willing in the day of His power. Softened 
in the flames of Divine love, their stubborn wills 
yield to His, and, under the hand of His Holy 
Spirit and the hammer of His mighty word, take 
the fashion and form of His own. Thus, His will 
and their wills being brought into perfect harmony, 
His people feel their duty to be their delight, and 
regard His holy service as no irksome bondage, 
but the truest liberty and highest honor. 



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FACTS 1 FAITH 

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CONTENTS BY CHAPTERS.— God;— Christ •— 
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